This Means War
by Caitlin51
Summary: Draco can have any girl he wants at Hogwarts. However, when he is challenged to prove it and Hermione is selected as his target, how is that going to influence their tempestuous relationship as Head Boy and Head Girl? Dramione.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first try at Harry Potter, so please be gentle and leave an encouraging review! Or constructive feedback, that's good too =).**

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Draco couldn't help the self-satisfied smirk that formed on his lips as he pulled open the door to the Head Boy's compartment on the Hogwarts Express. He had been waiting for this honour ever since he had started attending Hogwarts, and even though he had expected it, he still was inordinately pleased. Power was something he had always craved, and now he had more than any other student in the school, barring whoever had been chosen as Head Girl. That didn't worry him much, though. After all, he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys knew how to control and manipulate other people until they get their way.

Depositing his trunk in the corner of the spacious compartment, he plopped down on a cushy bench and leaned his head back in contentment. This was going to be his year - he could feel it. Even Potter and his irritating friends couldn't ruin his good mood, not when he could exercise his new authority over them. Draco's eyes starting to drift closed as he slipped into a daydream about lording his new power over the students that had been a thorn in his side for years,

The compartment door slipped open only a couple seconds later, ruining his peace and solitude.

"I'll meet up with you both at Hogwarts," an irritatingly familiar voice gushed. "I'm supposed to sit up here, though, with the Head Boy."

"It's fine, Hermione," Draco's nemesis's voice came from the hallway, startling him into alertness.

 _No. It couldn't be._

"We'll see you soon." The Weasel King's voice was just as nasal and annoying as he remembered, and he cringed.

 _This can't be happening._ Draco's hands curled into fists, and he had to force himself to relax. There was no way he was going to let the Mudblood see him upset about the situation. He had to stay in control, dominate with his confidence, make sure that he took charge. That's the only way he would be able to get through this year with his sanity intact. Deliberately, he adopted a lounging posture and made sure his trademark smirk was firmly in place for her arrival, ensuring that she wouldn't see anything except smug confidence.

Finally, after what felt like forever to Draco's tense nerves, the back of a bushy head appeared in the doorway, struggling to pull a large trunk with her as she carefully walked backwards into the compartment. An idea - a nasty one - crossed Draco's mind, and his smirk widened. Judging her path carefully, he stuck one leg out in front of him and waited.

"Bloody-" The rest of the expletive was cut off by a loud thump and moan as Granger tripped over his extended leg and went sprawling hard to the ground, her trunk crashing to the floor next to her.

"The Mudblood in her natural habitat," Malfoy's amused voice cut through her groans of pain, "lying on the ground beneath her betters." Though his voice was cool and dry, inside he was congratulating himself on a successful beginning to their working relationship - if you could call it that. He was going to ensure that she never got in his way, and this was just the beginning. Leaning down towards her, he added mockingly, "It's good to know your place."

She glanced up towards him through the bushy hair covering her face, and he was pleased to see that her skin was tinted a bright red of embarrassment. "Malfoy," she hissed, awkwardly scrambling back away from him. "What are you doing here?"

Draco leaned back against his seat again, feigning relaxation, though his wary eyes stayed on her in case she decided to retaliate. "What do you think? For someone supposedly so bright," he continued dismissively, "you're remarkably dim. Potty and Weasel must be rubbing off on you."

Again, her face flushed brightly and his smirk widened. Then, her eyes narrowed and he saw a flash of understanding pass over her face. "No," she shook her head. "There's no _way_...you can't be Head Boy!"

"And the stupidity continues," Draco yawned, closing his eyes as she proved to be more surprised and furious at the situation instead of at him. She was no real threat - goody-two shoes Granger wouldn't hex him in public.

He heard an exasperated huff and some muttered complaints, too soft for him to make out, before she settled into the bench across from him and he heard the unmistakable sound of pages in a book being turned. Of course the bookworm would start studying before they even arrived at Hogwarts. However, Draco was content with winning their previous encounter, and so he let her be. There would be plenty of time to continue to antagonize her throughout the year, and he was going to relish each opportunity. Sure, it might suck, but he was going to make the most of it.

The rest of the train ride passed in silence as Granger read and Draco planned how he was going to make her miserable this year.

...

Hermione stormed into her new common room - the living space she had to share with the Head Boy - after giving the password to the painting of two medieval lovers blocking the entrance. She noted immediately that it was not nearly big enough to avoid _him_. They would practically be brushing shoulders in the small space. Frankly, all of Hogwarts wouldn't be large enough to avoid him properly, but how could anyone expect them to work together? Clearly, she was the ideal choice for Head Girl, but how could they have picked _him?_ She shook her head in disbelieving frustration. And to make matters worse, she was expected to sleep only feet away from his room! She had been looking forward to the privacy of her own room and private common room, but that dream had been shattered as soon as she had seen his white-blond hair framing his smirking face as he looked down at her on the train compartment floor. She knew now that she wouldn't get a second of peace as long as he was around - his very presence made concentration impossible, as evidenced by how little progress she'd made while reading on the train opposite him. There was clearly no way that they would actually be able to work together. No way.

"Cozy," Malfoy commented, shoving past her and into the common room. "Now, all it needs is for you to keep your big mouth quiet, and it'll be perfect."

"Look who's talking," Hermione muttered, dragging her trunk into the space. It really was cozy, albeit small - there was a small fireplace facing a couch, a little coffee table, a couple end tables on either side of the couch, and a plush rug. Under any other circumstances, she would've be thrilled. If it had been _anyone_ other than Malfoy…

"I'm going to go put my stuff away," she muttered, picking the door to the left of their shared bathroom - _how in the bloody heck were they supposed to share a bathroom?_ \- and entering her chosen room.

Once there, she curled up on her bed in a ball, feeling her eyes start to prick with unshed tears. However, she brushed them away with an impatient hand. Draco stupid Malfoy wasn't going to make her cry - she refused to give him that power. She just wished that Harry or Ron or anyone tolerable, really, had been chosen as Head Boy. The loneliness was already getting to her, and she found that she missed Gryffindor Tower more than she had thought she would. She missed the camaraderie of her fellow house members and the chaos as everyone arrived at the start of a new year with trunks stuffed with books and robes...and she especially missed Ron, Harry, and Ginny. She knew they weren't far and that she would sit with them at the Welcome Feast, but for the hours in between, their absence ached.

 _Suck it up, Hermione,_ she told herself mentally, forcing herself to stand and to start attacking her trunk. She knew she would feel better once she'd unpacked a little bit and things started to feel a little more like home.

Putting Draco Malfoy firmly from her mind, she lost herself in her unpacking and organization. Dealing with him could wait. It couldn't be that bad, right?

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 **Please review to let me know if I should continue the story! The relationship takes a little build-up, but I promised it'll be worth it, so stick around =).**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who read, favourited, followed, and especially to those who reviewed! I love hearing that you are all enjoying the story =). Enjoy this next chapter!**

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Hermione was up at the crack of dawn the next morning. She figured that this was the best way to avoid Malfoy - since there was no way he would be getting before he had to - and besides, it was her first official day as Head Girl at Hogwarts. There was no way she was going to waste any time.

Yawning, she threw on her robes and headed to the bathroom. As she had suspected, the door to Malfoy's room was still firmly shut, and she heard no sounds, so she assumed that he was still asleep. That suited her perfectly - it was far too early to handle his constant insults and arrogance. Reaching the bathroom, she brushed her teeth quickly, cast a charm on her hair that smoothed down a lot of its frizziness (although it never worked perfectly, no matter how many times she tried), and washed her face. Feeling much more awake and refreshed, she exited the bathroom with a spring in her step.

Only to run straight into someone.

A tall, well-muscled someone.

"Get off me, Mudblood," a voice snarled, and she felt two hands push her away with slightly more force than was strictly necessary. "I don't want your filthy touch anywhere near me." There was such disgust in his tone that Hermione flinched away.

Malfoy strode past where she stood, too stunned still to even be angry at his rude words, though that anger would come later. The bathroom door slammed close behind him, shocking her out of her silence. "That...that imbecilic, idiotic...jerk!" she finally hissed, feeling her blood start to boil. Her former good mood was a thing of the past. She stormed over to the portrait hole, swung it open with all her strength, ignoring the complaints of the knight and his princess at the treatment, and made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

…

Draco stared sullenly at the food in front of him, his appetite pretty much gone after his encounter with Granger this morning. Even the presence of Blaise, who was desperately trying to flirt with Pansy Parkinson, couldn't distract him too much. It was funny, though, he admitted grudgingly, watching Blaise strike out over and over again since Pansy only had eyes for Draco.

As it should be.

Draco was the stud of Hogwarts, and (with the possible exception of Gryffindors) nearly every girl in his year or younger had fallen under his spell. Pansy was no exception, and he knew that she was hoping that this year, he'd finally make a move on her. She was wrong, of course, but he let her dream. Besides, watching Blaise chase her all year would give him an amusing distraction when Granger was getting under his skin.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed movement at the Gryffindor table. He glanced up and met the eyes of Ron Weasley, who was sending him a death stare. His fists were clenched at his side, and it appeared that the only reason that he wasn't coming to attack Draco was because Harry was physically holding him back. On the other side of the weasel, Hermione sat, her cheeks red, refusing to look towards Draco.

And then Draco understood. She had told them about this morning, and her pathetic would-be boyfriend was overreacting, as usual. Unable to resist antagonizing Weasley further, Draco deliberately moved his gaze to Hermione, and allowed his smirk to widen into a suggestive smile. Weasley's face turned even redder - about the colour of a ripe tomato. Draco couldn't help himself - he gave a saucy wink in their direction, then turned back to his meal as if nothing had happened, as if Weasley wasn't practically blowing smoke from his ears.

Suddenly, his appetite had returned in full force, and he dug into his breakfast with enthusiasm.

"What's going on?" Blaise's voice broke into his sudden good mood.

Draco jerked his head towards the Gryffindor table. "Gryffindorks," he mumbled through a mouthful of food. "Riling them up is always so much fun." He glanced to the other side of Blaise, noting that Pansy had left while he'd been busy angering the weasel. "Got a thing for her, eh?"

Blaise looked uncomfortable, all of a sudden. "It's nothing," he muttered, his grin disappearing.

Raising a knowing eyebrow, Draco commented, "It didn't look like nothing. She's awfully pretty, isn't she?" Slightly maliciously, he forced a contemplative look on his face as if he was actually considering Pansy for himself. "And she comes from a good blueblood family…"

"And, of course, she's crazy for you?" The sarcastic tone in Blaise's voice carried an edge of bitterness.

Draco couldn't help the self-satisfied smirk that crossed his lips. "Of course!" He glanced around the tables in the crowded hall. "Who isn't? You know that I can get any girl I want, anytime." His confident claim came out easily - everyone knew that it was true.

For a second, Blaise was nodding along in reluctant agreement, but then his eyes widened and he stopped. "Any girl?"

Shrugging, Draco speared another bite of his breakfast and popped it into his mouth. "Easily."

A speculative look appeared in his friend's eyes. It should have made Draco suspicious, but it barely registered. "How about Granger?"

Draco choked. Literally, he could swear that the bite he'd just eaten was stuck in his throat at Blaise's horrible suggestion. "Granger?" he forced out, in between sips of water from his goblet. "The mudblood Granger?"

"You said 'any girl'," Blaise reminded him smugly. He gestured around to the rest of the Slytherins at the table, who were all listening intently. Draco wished he could punch the grin off his face, but he restrained himself. Despite his anger, he had to respect what Blaise had done. He had effectively trapped Draco in a position where he had to either face the challenge of romancing Granger or lose face in front of his entire house. Not to mention the fact that, if Draco accepted, Blaise would have no competition for Pansy. Judging by the look in the other Slytherin's eyes, Blaise knew exactly what he'd done, and he was pleased as all heck with himself.

"Why, on this earth, would I ever want to debase myself to that level?" Draco drawled lazily, ensuring that none of his racing thoughts showed in his voice. "If my father heard…" He didn't have to fake his shudder at the thought. There would be no mercy from Lucius Malfoy if he heard that his son was carrying on with a mudblood.

Blaise's eyes glittered. "Call it the ultimate challenge. Get Granger, but do it without your father finding out."

Draco found the eyes of half his house staring at him, daring him to accept. No matter what happened, he knew that news of this would spread through his entire house by noon. "And how will I prove my success?" he asked through gritted teeth, giving in.

Smiling triumphantly, Blaise shrugged. "We can spy on you - shouldn't be too hard. Tell us where to be and when, and we'll see if you can live up to your boast."

Draco forced his confident smirk. "Oh, I will."

"Also," Blaise added, "your deadline is Christmas Break to have Granger fall for you." Draco heard what was left unsaid - or your reputation will be ruined.

"No problem." Turning back to his breakfast, Draco realized that, once again, he had lost his appetite. If even the thought of romancing Granger could do that to him, he was doomed.

...

Hermione rubbed her eyes, feeling exhausted already. It was only the first day, so she knew that she should not be stressing this much already, but the beginning of a new year always took a little time to get into the swing of things. And besides, she already had piles of homework since she was taking so many classes.

Already this evening, she had studied at the library for a couple hours, then visited the Gryffindor common room to spend some time with her friends, but finally she had craved the privacy and silence of her private common room. Luckily for her, Malfoy hadn't made an appearance since their awkward moment this morning.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, the portrait swung open and this clicked shut, much more gently than she would have expected from Malfoy. Maybe he hadn't noticed that she was there yet.

Peeking up around her large Transfiguration textbook, she was shocked to find that Malfoy's intense eyes were focused on her. Something like disgust flickered across his face, but then was gone in an instant. She couldn't place the strange look that replaced it as he advanced towards her.

"How was your day?" The words sounded choked, like he was forcing them out against his will. On second thought, it must be against his will. There was no way Malfoy would try to be _friendly_ without some type of possession.

"Why do you want to know?" Hermione asked coldly. She didn't want to argue with him, and she figured that was what would end up happening if she completely ignored him. He'd get riled up, and get her upset, and then it would be a horrible ending to an already exhausting day. However, she still couldn't force herself to be completely civil, either.

Draco's eye twitched in irritation. "It's called 'making conversation,' Granger," he nearly growled.

"Why?" Hermione asked, legitimately curious enough that she even put her book down.

Draco leaned on the arm of the couch so he was slightly closer to her. "Because you...you look n-n-nice. Today." The words looked like they left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Get lost, Malfoy," she told him automatically, still trying to process his words. Had he just given her a compliment? Now she knew he must be under some sort of charm. "I'm too tired to fight right now."

He growled something under his breath - something about Blaise? - and stormed past where she sat on the couch. The door to his room slammed only a second later, making Hermione flinch.

What had just happened?

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 **So...what do you think? Please leave a review!**

 **Also, if anyone is curious, the name of this fic is based off the song "This Means War" by Marianas Trench, and it's definitely worth looking up!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry it's been forever...more reviews would probably encourage me to remember to write this story more often...hint hint! Haha, but I hope you all enjoy the chapter!**

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Draco woke up the next morning in a foul mood. Probably had something to do with Granger and Blaise and his stupid boasting that got him into this situation in the first place. Now, he had just a few months to get the most repulsive girl in all of Hogwarts to fall for him, and he had to do it without anyone finding out.

This was going to require planning. Lots of planning, and cunning, and incredible acting. Not to mention good looks. Luckily, Draco was blessed with every one of those and more. If anyone could romance Hermione Granger, it would be him. "Besides," he muttered to himself, "seeing the look on the Weasel's face will make it all worth it." It wasn't much of a pep talk he was giving himself, but it was something and it made his day look at least slightly brighter.

With a yawn, he pulled himself out of bed. This time, Granger was already gone - the door to her room was closed and the light was off - and there was no sign of her in the common room. He couldn't help but feel relieved that he didn't have to act nice this early in the morning, as that would test even his abilities.

As Draco went through his morning routine, he started planning out how he was going to save his reputation and show Blaise not to mess with him. He had double Potions with the Gryffindorks first thing that morning, and so that was an obvious opportunity if he could figure out how to get her alone. He grimaced at himself in the mirror - the thought of getting Granger alone and not being romantic instead of hexing her was about as attractive as kissing a blast-ended skrewt.

Draco would take the skrewt any day.

However, despite his repulsion at the thought of the task in front of him, Draco had made some solid plans by the time he swaggered out of the common room and down to breakfast. Granger was never going to know what hit her. She was going to get a full dose of the patented Draco Malfoy charm (even if it meant that he would have to imagine that she was someone else the entire time) and he was going to succeed.

He was going to win if it killed him.

…

Hermione paused at the corridor leading down to the dungeons and took a deep breath. Double Potions was going to miserable, she just knew it. She wouldn't be surprised if the class ended with Rom barfing up slugs and Malfoy getting his face punched in - those two were already at each other's throats and the term had barely started.

What was going on with Malfoy anyway? He had been acting loony last night, and it had unnerved her enough that she had avoided him before breakfast. She hoped that he had just been hit with some hex that had made him nice and that he was back to his normal prick of a self. At least that way he was predictable.

Finally, with a sigh, Hermione set off down the hall, knowing that if she put it off any longer, she was going to be late.

Arriving at the classroom, she pulled open the door and flinched as she heard, "Miss Granger, kind of you to join us. Minus 10 point to Gryffindor for tardiness." Professor Snape stared her down, almost daring her to contradict him and claim that she had arrived instants before she would be considered late, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of taking more points from her house.

"Sorry Professor," she muttered insincerely instead and looked around the classroom for Harry and Ron. They were already sitting together. Harry shot her an apologetic look, and Ron refused to meet her eyes. A quick scan of the room told her the reason why - the only free seat in the room was next to Draco Malfoy.

"Are you going to continue disturbing my class, or will you take your seat?" Professor Snape asked menacingly.

Hermione didn't respond, and hurried to take the seat next to Malfoy. To her surprise, he didn't shift away when she sat down.

"Today, we will be making the Draught of Peace," Snape announced. "You will work in partners, as this potion is very difficult. Far above the level of most of you," he looked pointedly at Ron and Neville, "but considered important enough that it is required for me to teach." His tone showed the class just how important he thought the potion was. "Turn to page 106 in your books and follow the instructions. _Exactly_."

With that, Snape swept to the front of the room and sat down behind his desk, clearly unwilling to provide assistance to anyone.

Hermione took a calming breath and found herself grateful that they would be making a potion that encouraged peace, as she had a feeling that she would need to drink an entire cauldron-full after having to work with Malfoy all class. She turned to him, "Look, Malfoy, we…" What she had been about to say died on her tongue as she noticed that he was staring intently at her, with something smoldering behind his eyes. "We…" she tried again, and then shook her head. Her mouth suddenly felt dry. "Let's just be civil and make the potion, okay?" she finally asked, looking away from the intensity in his gaze.

"Happily," he breathed, scooting closer to her on the bench. Immediately, she moved to the edge of the seat, giving him a strange look. He shifted closer again, so that the sleeve of his robes brushed against her arms.

"Get away from me," she ordered him, leaning away.

"Why, Granger," he drawled, "am I making you nervous? I do often have that effect on women."

She felt her cheeks heat up in a blush. "You wish, Malfoy," she retorted, standing up more quickly than was strictly necessary. "I'm going to get the ingredients. Read the instructions."

Malfoy just smirked back at her, confident that he had won that round. Whatever this new game was that they were playing, Hermione did not like it. She felt way out of her depth, and had no clue how to respond to him.

The next couple minutes were uneventful. Surprisingly enough, Malfoy did read the instructions like she'd told him to do. Of course, she'd already read them last night in preparation for the class, so she was able to measure out all the ingredients precisely and from memory.

When she returned to the table, Malfoy's gaze was on her again. "Thank you," he said as she set the ingredients down. His lips turned up in a sneer for the briefest of instants before morphing into a small smile, and Hermione almost thought she had imagined the first reaction.

Hermione chose just to ignore it - she didn't want to pick a fight when Malfoy seemed to be making an attempt to be civil, whatever the reason for his other strange actions. "For this potion, the order of ingredients is very important," she told Malfoy as she put the cauldron over the flame, "and so be sure to double-check with the book before adding anything."  
"I _did_ just read the instructions," Malfoy sniped, then his eyes widened and he added, "but thanks, I mean."

They worked in silence for a couple minutes, both of them making sure that every ingredient made it into the cauldron in the right order.

"Stir 16 times exactly, in a counterclockwise direction," Hermione muttered, reaching for the spoon. Malfoy's hand flicked out at the same time as hers, and his landed on top. Immediately, she jerked her hand back and glared accusingly at him.

"If you wanted to hold hands with me, Granger, you should have just asked," Malfoy winked - he _winked_ \- at her. "Next time, we'll find ourselves a little private alcove, though, since the Weasel looks like he's about to explode."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione retorted mechanically, already swiveling around in her seat to look at Ron. Her friend's face was as red as his hair and he was glaring fiercely in their direction.

When he met her gaze, he mouthed, "Are you okay?"

She wrinkled her nose, but gave him a nod. It was nothing she couldn't handle by herself.

The rest of the class passed without incident, and Hermione nearly raced out of the room the second their potion was deemed acceptable. She couldn't handle spending one more minute around Malfoy, especially when he seemed to be either flirting with her or planning some horrible hex that required an extremely confused subject. Either way, she didn't want to stick around long enough to find out.

…

Draco stepped out of the shower that evening and reached for his green towel hanging on the rack, embroidered with his initials in silver thread.

Today had not been a success. Being nice to Granger was too difficult, and he kept slipping. Unfortunately, she also seemed to be immune to his flirtations, aside from that ridiculous blush that was constantly reddening her face. He swore that she would blush at _anything_.

With a sigh, Draco ran a hand through his wet hair, wrapped the towel around his waist, and stepped out of the bathroom.

Granger was just struggling to step in through the portrait hole, her arms full of books, and she clearly had not seen him yet. A thought formed in Draco's mind, and he couldn't help but grin as he thought of her horrified reaction. Tormenting Granger was one of his favourite things to do, after all.

Quietly, he slipped up close to her, so close that he could feel her bushy hair tickling his face as he leaned in and whispered, "Need a hand with those?"

"Aaaahhh," Granger shrieked, throwing her hands up and sending books tumbling everywhere. She spun around, lost her balance, and fell directly into his arms and against his bare chest. She froze.

Draco tightened his arms around her, pulling her completely against him and fighting the urge to gag at the idea that he was holding Granger in his arms. She was surprisingly soft, though, he found himself noticing despite his disgust. "Feeling a little lonely, Granger? The Weasel not doing his job?"

She squirmed in his grip and pulled away enough for him to see that her face was redder than he had ever seen it before. It was impressive - Draco didn't know that it was possible for a human face to be that red. "You...you're...where's your shirt?" she babbled desperately.

"I don't generally wear one in the shower," he replied amusedly, backing her up so she was pressed against the wall.

"The shower?" she asked inanely, her breathing starting to speed up.

Draco couldn't help the pleased smirk that crossed his lips. It looked like he had an effect on Granger after all. He leaned in closer, so there was only an inch between his mouth and hers. He was enough of a gentleman to pause for a second, giving her enough time to say no if she wanted to, before he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a feather-light caress.

It was surprisingly not awful, Draco thought, much to his horror, as he pulled away. Disgusted and telling himself that it was just his hormones reacting to kissing a woman - any woman - he jerked himself away and stormed to his room.

…

Hermione flinched as the door slammed shut for the second night in a row behind Draco.

What. Had. Happened?

Her unsteady breathing and the lingering feeling of his lips on hers told her that she didn't imagine it - he had actually kissed her. And worst of all, she had _let_ him kiss her. Granted, she had been flustered after dropping her books and then having his shirtless body pressed up against hers and then there was the desire to touch his abs (to her credit, she'd resisted that one), but there was still no excuse.

"I need to brush my teeth," she said out loud, trying to distract herself. Get the taste of Malfoy and the memory of the brush of his lips off her mind and mouth.

It was just her hormones. Nothing more. Malfoy was Malfoy - jerk extraordinaire, and there was no way she was attracted to him. No way.

She went to bed that night still trying not to think about him.

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 **What did you all think? Please leave a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: You guys are all so great! Look how quickly I updated when there were all those reviews!**

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Hermione was distracted all through breakfast the next morning. She stirred the food around her plate absent-mindedly, but she only took a bite of two.

"Did you finish the Arithmancy essay, Hermione?" Ron interrupted her stirring and looked at her hopefully.

"It's due today, of course I finished," she told him, a hint of a smile curving up her lips. "And before you ask, there's no way I'm letting you copy."

Harry snorted, but turned back to his food at Ron's glare, deciding not to get involved in the conversation-that-would-soon-be-an-argument.

"I won't copy, 'Mione," he grumbled. "I just want to read it. The whole subject is a whole lot of confusing rubbish."

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "I've told you this a million times, Ron. If you hate Arithmancy so much, just drop it. Why did you take it anyway?"

Her friend's face turned bright red, and he suddenly found his glass of pumpkin juice extremely interesting. "Thought it'd be fun," he mumbled almost incoherently.

To his other side, Harry snorted again and was rewarded by a punch in the arm.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Malfoy leaving the Great Hall, and he was alone. This was the chance she had been waiting for all morning, and she wasn't about to let it slip away. "Whatever," she said, hurriedly standing up and grabbing her bag and the pile of books next to it. "Do what you want, but I'm not going to let you cheat off me all term!" Before Ron could respond, she raced off to catch up with Malfoy.

At first, she thought that he had slipped away, but then she spotted a glimpse of his bleached hair turning down a corridor, and she followed as quickly as she could without outright running.

He was waiting for her as she turned the corner.

"Back for more, Granger?" he asked, arching an eyebrow suggestively. "Looks like you just couldn't stay away."

"You wish, Malfoy," Hermione snapped.

"Maybe I do," he surprised her by responding and taking a step closer to her.

She backed away, mentally off-balance by his reaction. "Cut it out," she told him, but it lacked her former bite. Taking a quick breath, she found her stride and continued, "I don't know what kind of sick game you're playing, but it's not going to work. You're Head Boy and I'm Head Girl, so we have to work together and we have to _pretend_ to be civil, but that's the extent of this relationship. So stay away from me."

Malfoy blinked, then smiled in respect. "So you do have guts," he said wonderingly. "Not nearly as spineless as I'd pegged you."

"I _punched_ you. In the face."

"Once."

"If I wasn't holding these books, it would be twice."

To her surprise, Malfoy laughed. And Hermione found that, for the first time and probably the last time ever, she was actually enjoying talking to Malfoy. Well, arguing with Malfoy, really, but still.

The mood changed as Malfoy stepped forward again. "I'm not going to back off, Granger," he told her, the intense look in his eyes making it impossible for her to look away. "I...I…" he ducked his head and swore under his breath. "I… like you," he finally spat out, his lips twisting like he had just sucked on a lemon.

This time, Hermione really did laugh. "That was convincing," she said scornfully. "Maybe if you could say it without looking like you were about to be hit with a nasty hex, I might believe...no, I would never believe that."

"It's the truth," he grumbled sullenly. "Why do you think I'm so miserable about it? What am I going to tell my father?"

That made Hermione pause. Maybe Malfoy would be this miserable if he was...no, the thought of Malfoy having actual, real-person feelings was so ludicrous that she just couldn't get past it. "Get over yourself," she told him, then spun on her heel and strode away, head high. She could have sworn that she heard a sound remarkably similar to someone kicking a wall, repeatedly, echoing after her.

…

Draco's toes stung and he cursed under his breath as he gave the wall one last kick. The impact throbbed through his foot and made him groan, but it felt good to kick something.

He was never going to succeed. Granger was a repulsive mudblood, and this was never going to work. It never could have. She was possibly the one woman in the entire school that was incapable of being romanced by anyone. Even the pathetic little Weasel didn't stand a chance with how stubborn and infuriating she is.

Glaring angrily at the wall, Draco contemplated punching it as well, but then decided that would be a bad idea. Instead, he stomped back off towards the Great Hall, hoping that maybe he would run into Potty and the Weasel. Taking both of them down a peg always made him feel better. Unfortunately, he had the opposite luck - he ran into Blaise and Pansy.

"That didn't look promising," Blaise joked, falling into step beside Draco. "Granger was spitting nails."

Pansy cackled a laugh and Draco resisted the urge to shudder at the sound. He still had no clue what Blaise saw in her.

He forced a confident smirk. "It's all part of my plan. It's complicated - I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Blaise's eyebrows rose in surprise, and then he shook his head incredulously. "I'll take your word for it."

"I still don't understand why you're going to sully your blood with such...filth," Pansy spit out. "Even as a challenge."

With a shrug and an infuriating smile, Draco veered away from his fellow Slytherins, ignoring her question completely. He had work to do - he needed to figure out how to convince Granger to fall for him, and his current tactics weren't working.

…

An owl swooped low over Hermione's head during dinner, its feathers ruffling her hair as it turned gracefully to land in front of her. On its foot was a note, which she untied quizzically. She didn't recognize the bird and she wasn't expecting a message, so this was out of the ordinary.

"Who's it from?" Harry asked before taking a bite of mashed potatoes.

Hermione shrugged. She carefully took the note from the owl, fed it a scrap of food from her plate as a thank you, and watched it soar away. Apparently, whoever it was was not expecting a response.

The note was short and cryptic. "10. Astronomy tower. Tonight. Come alone." It wasn't signed.

"Whads id sa?" Ron mumbled through a mouthful of food.

Hermione shot him a disgusted look. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

"Come on Hermione," Harry joined in. "Tell us."

"It's nothing," she said, handing him the note. "I think the owl must've gotten confused. I bet this means something to someone, but not to me."

Ron leaned over Harry's shoulder to read the note. He swallowed pointedly, then asked, "You're not going, are you?"

"Of course not," Hermione exclaimed, but inside she was a little more conflicted. If it _was_ meant for her, then she wanted to be there to figure out what was going on. If not, it was her job as Head Girl to investigate what her students were doing wandering around the castle late at night. Or maybe it was just Malfoy continuing whatever weird game he was playing. "I bet it's just a prank," she continued dismissively, but internally kicked herself when she realized that a part of her wanted it to be Malfoy.

Still, ten o'clock couldn't come early enough.

Eight found Hermione studying restlessly, with one eye on the grandfather clock in the library.

Nine found her pacing her common room, telling herself that it was ridiculous and possibly dangerous to go to the Astronomy tower late at night by herself without telling anyone where she was going, in the hope to meet someone that she actively couldn't stand just because he was acting weirdly nice lately.

And 9:55 found her creeping up the stairs to the tower, her wand gripped tightly in her white-knuckled hand. _Really,_ she told herself, _you're a bloody idiot, Hermione._ Still, her curiosity was enough to keep her going up the stairs, a dozen different protective spells on the tip of the tongue in case she needed them.

"Didn't think you'd come, Granger," a voice greeted her as she rounded the final bend and entered the small, circular room at the top. There, leaning against the railing, his white-blonde hair ruffled by the gentle breeze, stood Draco Malfoy.

Hermione felt her heart jump for no particular reason at all, certainly not because Malfoy was _smiling_ at her, a genuine smile of pleasure because she had chosen to come. She stayed silent and didn't move towards him, waiting for him to explain why they were there.

To her surprise, he turned his back to her and leaned out over the railing. "It's a lovely night. The stars are out."

Hesitantly, she took his unspoken invitation and joined him at the rail, keeping a foot or so of distance between them. For a while, they were both silent as they looked over the grounds and up at the night sky.

Finally, Hermione's curiosity overwhelmed her and she asked, "Why did you ask me to come?" She figured that the answer had something to do with what he had said to her that morning - that he liked her - but she wanted to hear his explanation.

He straightened and turned towards her, then took a step closer until she found herself tilting her chin up to look at him. It surprised her how tall he was; sometimes, in her mind, she still thought of him as the smug little boy from their first year. However, he was clearly a man, and an attractive one. In a purely objective way, of course. Hermione wasn't _attracted_ to him, she could just tell that he was handsome. It was very different.

Malfoy took a deep breath, distracting her from her thoughts. To her horror, she realized that her cheeks were hot, and then realized that it was dark enough that he probably couldn't tell. "Tell me, Granger," he started, and her eyes were drawn to his lips, "do you believe that a person can change?"

She looked away and subtly shifted a little bit away from him. "Yes," she answered simply, honestly. "I do."

When she looked back, there was an intense look in his eyes that captivated her. "Do you believe that I could change?" Beneath the intensity, she could see something that almost looked like...hope?

If Draco Malfoy truly wanted to change, who was she to stand in his way? "Yes," she almost whispered, not breaking eye contact.

"Then give me a chance?"

He barely waited for her answering nod before he stepped closer to her and put his hands on her waist.

Hermione suddenly very much wanted him to kiss her.

She was in luck, because, only seconds later, he did. The kiss was soft, and sweet, and made her feel almost giddy. Leaning into his body, she put her arms around him and stood on her tiptoes, deepening the kiss. "Draco," she breathed, pulling away for a second to catch a glimpse of his face.

A whole ton of emotions were flickering across his features - confusion, fear, desire, disgust, pleasure. "I have to go," he said abruptly, releasing her and staggering back. "This was...filthy Mudblood...stay away."

Tears sprang into Hermione's eyes as he raced down the stairs, leaving her alone. Not for her, though those tears would come later as she regretted her vulnerability and her stupid feelings for Draco Malfoy, but for him. For a second, she had thought he could change. But for him, it was all a game. It was always a game.

…

Draco practically slammed the portrait hole closed as he stormed into the common room, panting from having run the whole way.

Everything had gone perfectly. His plan - a night of dumb romance and sappy words under the stars - had lulled the stupid Mudblood into falling for him. Woman were so predictable.

And then everything had fallen apart. The second she had said his name - his first name - he had realized that he was enjoying himself. He had liked holding her in his arms, had liked kissing her, had liked hearing his name on her lips, and that was all wrong. Something was _wrong_ with him.

Swearing viciously, he hurled a couple of the pillows from the couch. It didn't calm him much.

"I'm too good," he muttered, running his hands through his hair. "That's what's wrong. I'm so good at playing her that I'm convincing myself. That's all."

The words helped to calm him, even though he wasn't sure he believed them.

He could still taste her on his lips, could still see her eyes, soft in the starlight.

"That's it," he snarled, "I'm going to win this my way. No more 'feelings' and 'romance'."

He dreamed of her all night.

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 **Please leave a review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm so glad everyone is still enjoying this! I love reading every single review - you all are the reason that I stay motivated! I hope you like this chapter, as this was the first scene I envisioned before I started this story, so I've been excited to write it for forever.**

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Hermione stumbled through the next day like she was in a fog. She had barely slept that night, thoughts of Draco - no, _Malfoy_ \- keeping her up. How could he be so cruel? How could he seem so earnest, so sincere, so vulnerable, and then turn out to be playing her like that? _He's probably bragging to all the other Slytherins about how he kissed me_ , she thought bitterly. That was the reason she had skipped breakfast at the Great Hall today - she didn't want to see him and his smug face.

However, she had double Potions with the Slytherins today. Hermione never skipped class - _never_ \- but today she was seriously considering it if only to avoid Malfoy. Despite her best efforts to convince herself that skipping one class wouldn't be a problem, her feet still dragged her slowly towards the dungeons, and she resigned herself to dealing with Malfoy after all. It wasn't like she could avoid him forever, anyway. They were, after all, Head Boy and Head Girl.

Hermione turned a corner, and suddenly felt a hand grab her arm and yank her into an open doorway before she could do anything more than gasp in surprise.

"Hello, Granger," a smug, self-satisfied voice greeted her.

"Oh no," she muttered as she found herself looking up at Draco Malfoy. "What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" To her surprise, her question just sounded weary instead of angry. She was fed up with his tricks. She looked around, noting the shelves of extra ingredients and figured that they must be in some sort of supply closet.

Malfoy took a step closer and gave her a heated gaze that made a blush rise to her cheeks despite herself. "What do you think I'm doing?" he muttered appraisingly, his eyes drinking her in. "I'm finishing what I started last night. Besides, I believe I told you that we needed a private alcove." He took another step forward, and Hermione backed up half an inch before her back hit the wall of the closet.

"Cut it out, Malfoy," Hermione ordered. However, her blood was starting to pump in his veins at his proximity - her body reacting to him despite her confused tumult of feelings in her head. "This isn't a game."

He took one more step forward until his body was pressed against hers. One of his hands rose to tangle in her hair, and she had to bite back her reaction before he thought that she was encouraging him. "We could make it a game," he breathed, leaning in so his breath caressed her ear. She shivered, feeling a tingle run through her whole body. Though she tried to remind herself that she was furious at him, for a good reason, it was so hard to remember that when he was this close, and she found herself just wanting to kiss him again.

"I don't want a game," she mumbled, gasping as his mouth grazed the side of her neck with a feather-light touch.

Malfoy pulled back for an instant. "Then what do you want, Granger?"

"I want the Draco I saw last night on the balcony," she replied, gathering her scattered wits. "The real Draco, not some arrogant git."

Draco hesitated, but then the corners of his mouth turned up in a reluctant smile. "You're a special one, Granger." His eyes flickered to her mouth, and he pulled his hand out of her hair long enough to graze the tip of his thumb across her bottom lip. "Are you sure that's all you want?" he asked, his eyes inviting. He leaned in again and his mouth found her neck, pressing heated kisses along its length.

Despite what she actually wanted, Hermione managed to force herself to push him away. "I'm not going to make it that easy on you again," she breathed, feeling her erratic heartbeat start to calm down now that there was a touch of distance between them. "If you want to kiss me again, you have to prove it to me."

Draco's eyes glinted approvingly. "Alright then, Granger," he drawled, leaning up against the wall. She couldn't help drink in the masculine shape of his body - especially those shoulders - before she jerked her eyes back up to his face. His eyes were watching her with a wary interest. "Let's make a deal," he continued. "We're making the Draught of Living Death in Potions. I bet that I can do it better and faster than you can."

Hermione blinked, then let out an incredulous laugh. "Not a chance."

Draco smirked in satisfaction and reached out to brush a strand of her hair off her face. "When I win," he continued, "I get a kiss. A good one," he amended.

"And if I win?"

"What do you want, Granger?" he asked again, his voice low and predatory.

She ignored his attempts to manipulate her into something he actually wanted. "You have to call me 'your highness' for a month."

Draco snorted. "No."

"Do you want his deal?"

"One day."

"A week."

"Fine," Draco finally conceded. "A week." Before she could respond again, he whipped open the door and exited the closet without waiting for her.

Hermione leaned her head back against the wall and took a couple deep breath, trying to control her breathing. Draco became more and more of an enigma every day, but she found herself increasingly attracted to him in the moments when he was sincere and not such a git.

It was becoming a serious problem.

…

Draco stormed through the dungeon hallways towards Snape's classroom, fighting the urge to let out a stream of curses or punch a hole through one of the portraits lining the walls.

He had been perfectly in control of the situation - teasing her, making her fall for him - and then she had done it _again_. Somehow, she had pulled real emotions out of him, emotions that confused him just as much as when they had appeared on the tower last night. No matter how in control he thought he was, she always managed to find a hole in his defenses and sneak in.

Now, he had this _stupid_ bet with her just to get a measly little snog, which is something he should be able to get without some ridiculous deal. However, winning was his only option - there was no way that he was calling her 'your highness' in front of Blaise, Pansy, and the other Slytherins. He'd die before subjecting himself to that kind of humiliation.

He stalked into Potions and took a seat next to Goyle. That way, he could make the entire potion without interference, since Goyle wasn't bright enough to contribute anything unless ordered to help.

A couple minutes later, a flushed and slightly bedraggled Hermione entered and dropped to a seat beside the Weasel. She deliberately refused to look at him, even when the Weasel tried to get her attention so she could see that Draco was staring at her.

"The Draught of Living Death," Snape entered the classroom with a flourish of black robes, not waiting an instant before starting his instruction, "is an extremely powerful and extremely difficult sleeping potion. It start with an infusion of wormwood…" Snape continued on, but Draco stopped listening. Sure, the potion was difficult, but he was more than capable of brewing it. The real challenge was brewing it better - and faster - than Granger. His eyes flickered towards the Weasel, whose face was resting on his hand as he struggled to keep his eyes open. That was his real advantage - the Weasel. All Draco needed was for him to be his usual incompetent self and he was guaranteed to win.

Finally, Snape finished droning on and released them to start their potions. Draco grimaced as he gathered his ingredients - the wormwood, asphodel powdered root, and bean juice weren't so bad, but the sloth brain was frankly just disgusting.

"You're going down," a sweet voice sounded beside him, and he turned to see Hermione gathering her ingredients as well.

"I wouldn't be so confident," he smirked. "I'm _really_ looking forward to my reward."

"I believe there should have been a 'your highness' in there," Granger said pointedly.

Draco found himself smiling at her confidence and obvious competitive spirit. "I'm a Malfoy, "he responded simply. "I never lose." However, as he gathered his ingredients and walked back to his workbench, he began formulating a simple plan to ensure his success.

"Goyle," he hissed to his partner. The big boy looked over, a dull look permanently pasted on his ugly face. Draco jerked his head towards the Weasel, who was staring at the caulderon he shared with Hermione. "Make sure that he has an 'accident,' that ruins their potion."

Goyle frowned, and Draco waited somewhat patiently for the instructions to sink in. Finally, the other boy's face brightened. "Okay," he agreed.

"Subtly," Draco stressed. He wasn't sure if Goyle understood the word, but the other Slytherin nodded and he figured that that should be good enough.

With a smirk, Draco dumped the infusion of wormwood into his cauldron and prepared to add the powdered root. Next to him, Goyle stood and stretched dramatically. Draco sighed, shaking his head, and just decided he didn't want to look. Instead, he added the powdered root and stirred methodically twice clockwise.

Behind him, there was a clatter and a splash, then a muttered curse, and then raised voices. "You bumbling git!" That was the Weasel.

"Oh no oh no oh no." Granger's voice sounded worried and slightly desperate, and Draco bit down on his triumphant smile. It was early enough that Granger could restart her potion, but there was no way she was going to beat him at this point.

"Oops," Goyle said, not even a hint of apology in his voice. He returned to sit beside Draco seconds later, looking extremely pleased with himself.

As Draco had predicted, he finished a full quarter of an hour before Granger, his potion close to perfect. Snape gave his perfect marks. While Granger also received full marks, she was not pleased - he could feel her glare boring into the back of his head though he refused to turn around. He would gloat later, when he collected his winnings.

…

"You cheated!" Hermione exclaimed the second Draco entered their shared common room later that evening.

He paused, one foot still outside, and shrugged. "Yes, so?" He finished climbing in and closed the portrait behind him.

"And you won't even admit it!" Hermione continued, then hesitated. "Wait, you...you said 'yes'?"

Draco smirked, sauntering towards her. "We never agreed that we couldn't use all the resources available to us," he said reasonably. You chose the Weasel; I chose Goyle. You could've done the exact same thing."

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't cheat."

"No complaints here." Draco's gaze slid to her slightly-parted lips, and he found himself disgustingly eager to kiss her again. It had taken all his self-control not to do so earlier in the closet, when her bushy hair had been wound around his hand and her body had been pressed against his… "I'm getting what I wanted, after all." He continued towards her, feeling a flash of pride as he noticed her breathing hitch in her throat at his proximity.

"You...you cheated," she mumbled a protest, but didn't move away.

Draco snaked one arm around her waist and pulled her against him. He tangled his fingers in her hair and felt her melt against him as he tilted her face up to meet him.

This kiss was nothing like the one in the tower - that one had been sweet and slow, and this one was passionate and full of need. He crushed her to him, wanting her closer, and felt her arms come up around his waist in response. With that as encouragement, he deepened the kiss, running the tip of his tongue along the curve of her lower lip. She moaned encouragingly, making his blood boil with desire.

Finally he pulled away, breaking the kiss. "Still mad that I cheated?" he asked smugly, trying to ignore the fact that he was a little breathless from the kiss.

"Yes," she responded immediately, but the slight smile on her lips told him that she didn't really mean it.

"Good night, Granger," he told her, turning to head towards his room and deal with the tangled mess of emotions running through his head.

"Hermione," her hesitant voice sounded from behind him. "Call me, Hermione, Draco."

"Good night, Hermione," he responded without turning around, trying her name out. It felt too intimate, but nice at the same time. He escaped to his room, and flung himself on his green covers with a groan

Granger was getting to him. He _liked_ kissing her, which was surely just because he was a teenage boy, not because he had real feelings for her. Right? It was hard for Draco to convince himself of that, no matter how hard he tried.

What was happening to him?

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 **Please review! This chapter was super fun to write =).**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for all the reviews so far - I love hearing feedback and knowing that you all are enjoying the story so much! Keep them coming, and enjoy this next chapter =)**

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Malfoy - _Draco_ \- she reminded herself, was already gone by the time Hermione got up the next morning. That was surprising - normally, he slept in and she was the early-riser. What was also surprising was the twinge of disappointment she felt knowing that she probably wouldn't get to talk to him until Potions, since their tables were too far apart for her to communicate with him at breakfast.

It was weird to think that she had detested him and had dreaded sharing a common room with him. That was only a month ago at the beginning of the school year. Now, however, she wasn't looking forward to seeing him, but at least the prospect of running into him wasn't her worst nightmare anymore. Sure, he was still a detestable jerk sometimes, but occasionally she could see through that and into who he was beneath his swagger and sharp comments. There was no way she actually _liked_ Draco Malfoy - that was pretty much impossible, no matter the effect he had on her when he kissed her - but she could at least admit to no longer hating him.

The thought of the kiss - his prize for cheating on the potion and beating her - made her breathing speed up slightly. Logically, she knew that whatever Mal- _Draco_ felt for her must be purely physical, since he'd made his disgust for her and her heritage very clear over the years, but there was a part of her that couldn't help but hope that maybe he could change. Their conversation on the balcony proved that, right?

There was a small part of Hermione, a part that she conveniently chose to ignore, that warned her that getting attached to Draco Malfoy in any way would only end up hurting her. However, she pushed that part of her aside and headed towards breakfast with a spring in her step and a small smile on her face.

...

As soon as she entered the Great Hall for breakfast, her eyes scanned the Slytherin table, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. She felt like she had had a huge breakthrough in their relationship once she'd realized that he wasn't quite as deplorable as he used to be, and she wondered if he felt the shift in their dynamic as well.

Her eyes found him easily - he sat up straight, sneering at something Pansy said to him, his blonde hair falling slightly into his eyes. As usual, he was the picture of confident arrogance. Their eyes met across the room, and she smiled brightly at him. He smirked back and looked her up and down in a lewd way that made her fists clench and her face turn a bright, cherry red before he turned back to his conversation.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Ginny asked as she stormed over to the Gryffindor table and plopped down on the bench next to her friends. "You look furious."

"It's nothing," she mumbled, dishing up a helping of eggs and then stabbing them repeatedly with her fork. "Just Malfoy being his usual…"

"...prick? Git? Prat?" Ron offered helpfully.

"All of them." Obviously, he hadn't changed - he was still as loathsome and as incapable of genuine human emotion as always. It was all an act for him, and it always had been. He was playing her.

She knew she was being crazy - one moment she _almost_ thought she liked Malfoy; the next moment she returned to her detestable view of him. However, her emotions were in turmoil and the confusion kept swinging her from one extreme to the other. His actions certainly didn't help anything, as he'd insult her one minute and then be kissing her the next. How was she supposed to know who the real Malfoy was? The one on the tower? The one who called her Mudblood?

"Earth to Hermione." She blinked and realized that Harry was waving a hand in front of her face, and half the table was staring at her. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine, Harry," she snapped, then immediately regretted her tone. "I'm sorry. I'm just...tired. I haven't been sleeping well."

"Is it the ferret?" Ron asked fiercely, craning in his seat to shoot a glare in Malfoy's direction. "That git. I knew that letting you share a common room with him was a bad idea!"

"Letting me?" Hermione asked, her voice dangerously quiet.

"Yeah," Ron said absently, still trying to catch Malfoy's eyes. "I knew he'd be a rotten prat and make you miserable."

"Are you saying that I can't hold my own against Malfoy?" Hermione asked, her voice starting to rise. She knew that she was lashing out, but couldn't seem to stop herself. Malfoy was who she should be shouting at, not Ron. Her friend only had the best intentions, even if he didn't communicate them very well.

"N-no, of course not, Hermione!" Ron rushed to explain, a panicked look on his face. "I'm just worried."

"We both are," Harry agreed, taking a bite of his toast. "You've been distant for a while and every little thing sets you off."

"No it doesn't," Hermione snapped, then realized that her response proved Harry's point. She took a deep breath. "Okay," she agreed. "Maybe D-Malfoy is getting to me a little bit." There was no way she was going to tell them exactly _how_ he was getting to her - they would just flip out and never listen to her explanation of his two conflicting and very confusing sides.

"I'd say," Ron pointed out with a scowl. "And he keeps looking at you like...like he owns you."

Hermione turned in her seat and found Malfoy's intense gaze resting on her. She felt her breathing speed up and forced herself to turn away before Harry and Ron could notice her reaction. "He's just trying to get under your skin," she said dismissively. Though she had turned away, the back of her neck prickled and she knew that he was still watching her.

"It's working," Ron growled, shooting another glare towards the Slytherin table. "Do you want me to hex him for you?"

"No!" Both Ron and Harry looked at her in surprise at her reaction. "I mean," she covered her slip quickly, "I can take care of myself. I'll tell him to back off in Potions this morning."

Both her friends nodded, satisfied that Hermione was going to take care of the situation without any problem, and returned to their breakfasts.

…

Draco found himself in Potions early. It was _not_ because he was excited to see Granger - not a chance - he was just very excited about the potion they were brewing today. Not that he could remember what potion that was, exactly...but he was sure that it was a particularly fascinating one.

Other students slowly trickled into the dungeon classroom. The braver ones gave Draco a surprised look, but the cowards just avoiding his sneering gaze entirely. Blaise swaggered in with his arm around Pansy a couple moments later, but there was still no sign of the Golden Trio. "Waiting for someone?" Blaise asked with a suggestive grin. "It's already the middle of the term and you don't seem to have made much progress."

Draco fought the urge to punch him and instead pasted a confident smirk on his face. "That's a matter of opinion," he said casually. "Snogging the Mudblood isn't quite as terrible as I'd expected." He fought a wince as he said the slur, then mentally kicked himself. She _was_ a Mudblood, and he couldn't forget that.

Pansy's eyes widened. "You've kissed her?" she gasped, stepping away from Blaise, who scowled at Pansy's reaction.

"Loads of times," Draco drawled, feeling a flash of satisfaction. "I plan on maintaining my reputation, after all."

Hermione entered the classroom, flanked on either side by Potty and the Weasel. Her eyes fell on Draco and she scowled at him before striding past without so much as a word of acknowledgement.

Blaise smirked. "You're lying - there's no way _she's_ snogging you." Pansy nodded, but the worried look in her eyes as she watched Granger didn't fade.

Draco gave an unconcerned shrug. "Right now it's purely physical, but by the end of term, I'll have her head over heels for me. I'm irresistible, remember?"

Blaise snorted, but Pansy gazed at Draco adoringly and nodded. However, there was a hint of worry in her voice as she asked, "You're not falling for her, right?"

A wave of panic hit Draco, and he struggled to keep his face from showing his emotions. "She's a _Mudblood_ ," he whispered, rolling his eyes dramatically. "I'd sooner fall for a hippogriff!" Another flash of guilt hit him at his words, but he forced himself to continue. "I'm just playing her, and, like everything I do, I'm doing it perfectly."

Pansy's smile returned and she seemed convinced.

Snape strode into the room, and all the conversations stopped immediately at the man's presence. "Exploding potions," the professor started without introduction, as per his usual style, "are extremely dangerous, but extremely useful under certain circumstances. Divide into partners and turn to page 107. Anyone," he leveled his gaze towards where the Gryffindors clustered, "who explodes their potion prematurely _will_ be tasked with cleaning the entire room and will lose House Points. You may begin."

Draco looked around the room and grinned as he saw that the two boys of the Golden Trio had paired up, and Granger was currently sitting alone. Longbottom was headed in her direction, but Draco stuck out his foot and sent the chubby boy sprawling to the ground. "Watch it," he snapped at the boy, and then slipped into the spot next to Granger before Longbottom could scramble to his feet.

"Do you always have to be such a git?" Granger asked primly, shifting away from him and pulling out her potions textbook. Her attitude towards him was surprisingly cold considering last night, but he took that as a challenge to win her over again.

"Sometimes I'm a flirt instead," he drawled, shooting her a winning smile and leaning closer to her.

She sniffed and didn't even glance at him, instead turning to the indicated page and starting to read the ingredient list.

"Come on, Hermione," he muttered enticingly, "don't be like this. What about last night?"

"Last night didn't happen," she returned coldly. "And don't call me Hermione."

Draco's lips tightened. What was her problem? She had seemed happy enough with him last night, and he hadn't even talked to her today! "Listen, _Granger_ , just because you can't handle a simple kiss…"

"...keep your voice down!" she interrupted him, a blush appearing on her cheeks as she looked at where Potty and the Weasel sat a couple rows back.

"Embarrassed?" Draco feigned mock outrage. "I _am_ the most desirable wizard at Hogwarts - you should be honoured that I would kiss you!"

"Stop saying that word," Hermione hissed, shooting another nervous glance at her friends. "Someone's going to hear!" As if in reaction to her words, Blaise turned around from the bench in front of them and shot them a suggestive wink that made Granger's blush deepen. "See? People are staring!"

Draco didn't reply, just glared at Blaise until the boy looked away. "I'll get our ingredients," Draco offered, running a hand familiarly along her arm. She shivered and glared at him, but didn't argue.

The Exploding Potion was deceptively simple - there was only a handful of ingredients, and there was room for slight errors in measurement and method _except_ in the amount of flower petals added. Add too many, and the potion would explode immediately. Add too few, and the potion wouldn't explode on impact like it was supposed to.

They worked in silence for a while. Draco made sure to take advantage of every opportunity he could to touch her - a brush of their hands here, a touch on her shoulder there. Every time, she flinched slightly and glared at him, but she didn't tell him to stop. Besides, Draco could practically feel the Weasel's eyes boring a hole in his back, and he liked aggravating the redhead.

"I like snogging you, Granger," Draco muttered lowly, leaning into her and tracing his finger along the back of her hand. She pulled it away. "Do you like snogging me?"

A vibrant blush returned to her cheeks and she busied herself with the ice pop pieces. Draco thought she wasn't going to reply, but finally she said, "I'm sick of the games, Malfoy. Like I told you, I want the real _Draco_ , not whatever _this_ is."

"So you do want me." Under the table, his hand found hers again and he intertwined their fingers. It surprised him how pleased he was to hear that she wanted him, and he had to remind himself that this _was_ a game, and one that he was planning on winning. However, his increasingly confusing feelings were making it difficult to think of it that way.

Granger sighed in annoyance and pulled her hand away, picking up a handful of the petals he had chopped. "Knock it off, Malfoy. I'm not interested."

To his surprise, he found himself missing the feel of her hand in his. "I like you, Hermione," he whispered into her ear, just as she dropped the petals into the mixture. His eyes widened as he saw that she had accidently dropped the full handful, and he grabbed for her and flung them both hard to the floor just as their potion erupted in a spray of lime-green juice and foul smelling smoke.

"Get your filthy hands off her!" The Weasel's furious voice sounded like it was from far away, and Draco realized that he must be slightly deafened from the explosion. His body ached. Granger shifted beneath him, and he realized that he was half-lying on top of her, his arm flung across her stomach and their legs tangled together.

"Maybe I don't want to," he sneered, but his words were automatic. "Granger," he asked anxiously, "are you alright?"

"Can't breathe," she coughed. "Too...heavy…."

Draco rolled off her with a relieved laugh - more of a genuine laugh than he had experienced in a long time.

Snape's looming figure appeared above them. "Minus twenty points, Miss Granger. Stay after class to clean up your mess - no wand as exposure to magic will make the rest of the potion ignite." The professor pointedly ignored Draco's involvement despite the muttered angry comments from the Gryffindors.

The class ended only a couple minutes later, and Draco surveyed the damage to the room with amusement. The explosion had scarred the desk and Granger's cauldron was now a smoking wreck. There was dripping green goo everywhere - the floors, ceiling, tables, walls… Granger was looking around the room in horror and dismay.

"How come you got off? It was your fault!"

" _My_ fault?" Draco asked in amusement. " _You_ put way too many petals in the potion."

"Because you distracted me!"

"Oh, so you find me distracting?" Draco approached her with a smile - a real smile, not his usual satisfied smirk.

A hint of a smile appeared on Granger's lips, but she fought it back. "Only in the worst sense."

"I don't believe that. You know you like me. Come on, Hermione, admit it."

This time, she didn't berate him for using her name, nor did she step away as he put his arms around her waist and pulled her against him.

"Okay, somaybeIhavesomeitty-bittydumbfeelingsforyou," she muttered, so quickly that it took him a second to decipher her words. When he did, he smiled and raised a hand to stroke along her lips. She leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed.

"That's not quite good enough," he whispered into her ear before nibbling on it gently. She let out a moan and melted into his arms. "I like you, Hermione." The words rang true in his own ears, and he nearly panicked. How could he like her? She was a Mudblood! Still, though, there was no denying the effect she had on him… How could he face his father?"

"I like you too, Draco," Hermione voice interrupted his spiral of panic. "When you're not being...well, the you you are with everyone else." Her lips met his neck, soft and insistent, and all coherent thoughts fled Draco's brain.

"Good," he mumbled, tilting his head to allow her mouth better access. However, seconds later he changed his mind and captured his lips with his, taking comfort in their kiss. He could forget his father, and Blaise, and the bet, and how wrong this all was. When he was kissing her, he was just Draco and she was just Hermione and everything was simple.

Draco never would have imagined falling for a Mudblood, but yet here he was…

They took their sweet time in cleaning up the dungeon classroom.

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 **Please leave a review to encourage me! I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, so I'd appreciate any feedback. Do you feel like things are progressing at a good rate?**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey all! Sorry this update has taken so long - I had family visiting and then I went on vacation, so I haven't been around very much. Anyway, thank you all SO much for the reaction to the last chapter! I love hearing your feedback and seeing how you are all enjoying the story. Keep it up!**

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"Someone's looking happy," Ginny observed as Hermione practically danced into the Great Hall that evening for dinner. "What's got you up on cloud nine?"

"Nothing," Hermione answered automatically, her cheeks reddening as she fought the urge to glance back at the Slytherin table. The back of her neck prickled, and she was positive that Draco's eyes were watching her. "It's just been a good day."

"You lost house points and had cleaning duty detention." Ron looked at her like she had lost her mind. "How was that a good day?"

"It just was," Hermione said with a wide smile, refusing to let her friends' skepticism bother her. "No reason." She sat down and started loading up her plate with mashed potatoes and gravy.

Ginny leaned in closer with a knowing look and a gleam in her eyes. "Really? No reason?"

"None," Hermione repeated, her heart sinking slightly as she realized that Ginny wouldn't leave this alone. She might be able to fool Ron and Harry, but Ginny was too perceptive.

"Alright, then," Ginny agreed. "Are we still on for the library tonight?"

"Of course. 9 o'clock?" They hadn't made plans to meet at the library - that was just Ginny's polite way of getting Hermione to spill all the details without alerting the boys. Hermione would have appreciated her friend's thoughtfulness if she wasn't so worried about what she was going to say. How do you tell people that you were falling for the rudest, most arrogant wizard at Hogwarts? How do you explain that he was really much better in private?

"I'll be there," Ginny replied with a satisfied smile.

"Mione," Harry asked after a couple moments of silence, "did you talk to Malfoy about leaving you alone?"

"You could always punch him again," Ron added helpfully with a hopeful smile on his face. "That was bloody fantastic, that was."

"I, uh, I certainly did _talk_ to Malfoy," Hermione floundered. She hated lying, especially to her best friends, but there was no way she could tell Harry and Ron that making Draco leave her alone was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment.

"And?" Harry prompted.

"And I was very clear. He understood exactly what I wanted." It was the truth, but Hermione still felt guilty since she knew that she was deliberately misleading her friends. She _had_ been clear with Draco, but she doubted that all the snogging they had done while cleaning the potions classroom counted as telling him to stay away. However, telling Harry and Ron the truth was not an option, at least not yet. If things kept happening between her and Draco, then eventually she would have no choice, but she could put it off as long as possible.

"Good." Harry nodded approvingly. The conversation moved on to the upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. It was the most anticipated match of the school year so far, and Hermione was frankly sick about hearing the same strategies over and over again. Besides, she and Draco had plans to meet at the top of their tower directly after dinner. She wouldn't be able to stay long because of Ginny, but her heart still skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again.

"...burned all of your textbooks." Ron's voice jolted her out of her thoughts, and she glared at him.

"You. What?"

"It was a joke!" Ron raised his hands defensively and grinned at her impishly. "You were staring off into space."

"Dreamily," Harry added.

"Probably thinking about ickle Ronnie," Fred jumped into the conversation. Ron's face immediately turned as red as his hair, and Hermione felt a blush heat up her own face as well.

"No way," Hermione squeaked, just as Ron threw a spoonful of potatoes at his brother. Fred dodged, but the potato ball hit George right in the ear.

"Oops…" Ron whispered.

Feeling a massive foodfight coming on, Hermione excused herself before she ended up with a face full of gravy. However, she didn't miss the meaningful glance Ginny shot her, reminding her that she'd better show up tonight and provide all the details.

She sighed, but still couldn't help the small smile on her lips as she started up towards the tower to meet Draco.

…

Draco paced impatiently around the top of the tower, glancing repeatedly towards the staircase to see if Gr-no, if _Hermione_ had arrived yet.

Not that he was excited to see her or anything. The snogging in the potions classroom this morning had been...he forced himself not to say 'incredible,' but he couldn't shake the thought from his mind. He had definitely gotten carried away, and his teenage hormones had convinced him that he had real feelings for her. That was impossible, of course. This stupid bet was messing with his mind, convincing him that he felt things for someone who was beneath him. Everything he'd said to her about liking her had felt too real for his liking. If it weren't for the bet, he would have left her the second those pesky feelings started cropping up, would have broken her heart like it was nothing. However, now the thought of breaking her heart made something twist painfully inside of him.

"Draco," Hermione's voice called out. He realized that he had stopped pacing and was glaring out at the Hogwarts grounds, and so had stopped watching the stairs. "Hi," she said with a smile as he turned around.

Despite his best efforts at convincing himself that the feelings weren't real, he couldn't help the small, genuine smile that formed at the sight of her. "Hermione," he breathed, reaching towards her automatically. She came willingly into his arms, and he held her close even as he hated himself for the tender gesture. He was supposed to be pulling away from her - only getting close enough to fool her and win the bet.

Finally, Hermione pulled back and looked up at him. "So I didn't imagine this afternoon, then?"

Draco chuckled and grazed his lips across hers. He couldn't help himself, not with her looking all lovestruck up at him. "You're terrible at Potions."

" _Someone_ was being distracting," Hermione countered.

"So you find me distracting?" Draco felt a rush of pride at the thought of the effect he had on her.

"Only in the worst way."

"Still, distracting?" he raised his eyebrow and leaned in to kiss her. She melted into it immediately, eagerly running her hands through his hair and he pulled her closer. He nibbled on her bottom lip, as if asking permission to deepen the kiss, but barely waiting for her answering moan before running his tongue lightly on the top of her bottom lip and grazing the tip of her tongue. Hermione let out a sigh of breath that sent his blood boiling.

However, a second later, Hermione pulled back with a jerk, staring at him.

"What?" he asked, drinking the sight of her looking all disheveled and flushed after their kiss.

"Are you serious about this?" she asked him, slightly breathlessly. "About...about me?"

Draco paused, two conflicting emotions fighting inside of him. He wanted to tell her that he was serious, that his feelings were real. However, he couldn't stop the feeling of guilt at the thought that this _wasn't_ real, and he was using her to win the bet and show Blaise up.

"I...I don't know," he admitted honestly. "I want to find out, though." He needed to buy himself time to figure out what was going on in his head.

"Me too. And that's good enough, for now," Hermione told him. "I just wanted to make sure before I talked to Ginny because we're meeting up tonight and…"

"Whoa, what?" Draco asked sharply, releasing her and allowing her to stumble backwards. "You're telling Ginny? Who else are you bragging to?"

"Bragging to?" Hermione asked tightly, a glint of anger appearing in her eyes. "My friends have a right to-"'

"-can't have you bragging to all of Hogwarts!" Draco cut in, his voice rising. "I've got my reputation to maintain!"

"Well, I'm _sorry_ you've been sullying yourself with me and that I'm _such_ an embarrassment to you!" Hermione retorted loudly. He could see the glint of tears forming in her eyes, but none spilled onto her cheeks. "This was a mistake." She spun on her heel and turned to go.

With a lot of effort, Draco forced himself to lower his voice. "Hermione," he asked softly, "wait?"

"What for?" she asked without turning around. "I was stupid to think you could have changed. You're just as arrogant as ever."

Draco stepped forward and put his hand on Hermione's shoulder, turning her to face him. He couldn't bring himself to apologize - he would never sink that low - but he could try to make things better, or kiss his chances of winning the bet goodbye. Besides, though it was hard to admit, he didn't like seeing her almost cry. "I just don't want this to get out before…"

"...before what?"

"...before...I don't know. If it gets out, the Golden Trio will kill me...not to mention what my father would do…"

Hermione frowned. "It's not like I'm thrilled about telling my friends I've been snogging _you_ ," she told him, crossing her arms in front of her. "I just don't know how long I can keep it a secret from them."

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Everything was starting to fall apart, and he still hadn't won the bet. He was close - so close - but he had to seal the deal and prove it to Blaise before he could call it quits. "Do your best."

"That's it? Do your best?" Hermione scoffed. "Great advice."

"Stop snapping at me," Draco snapped. "I'm trying to help."

Hermione bit her lip and looked away. "Why can't we make it through a conversation without arguing?"

"It's your fault," Draco told her with a grin, stepping in closer and trying to lighten the mood. He could visibly see Hermione's breathing hitch as he stepped closer, and his grin turned to a smug smirk. "You're too stubborn and self-righteous."

"And you're a stuck-up jerk," she responded, but there was no bite to her words. Instead, her lips parted slightly, inviting him to come closer.

"You know you think it's sexy." Before she could respond, Draco put his hands around her waist and pulled her to him, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. He poured all his emotion into it - all his desperation, confusion, desire - everything.

By the time they broke apart, both panting for breath - which did nice things to Hermione's body, he couldn't help but notice - Draco was feeling even more conflicted about where his true feelings for the Gryffindor lay.

…

Hermione breezed into the library later that night, only a couple minutes late for her meeting with Ginny. She was still feeling lightheaded from Draco's kisses, and she couldn't hide the small smile from her lips. She knew that things were far from perfect - the fact that they ended up yelling at each other more often than not proved that - but she felt hopeful that they would work things out, and that she could be happy. Still, the thought of telling Ginny gave her nervous butterflies.

"Hermione!" Ginny flagged her over to where she sat alone at a small table. "Over here!"

The butterflies started flapping more wildly. She had basically agreed with Draco not to tell anyone, but there was no way she could keep this secret from her best friend any longer, no matter what Draco wanted.

"Sooo?" Ginny asked, wagging her eyebrows up and down suggestively. "Details."

"Not here," Hermione insisted, glancing around. There were a handful of Hufflepuffs at a nearby table engaged in a serious study session, but Hermione knew that if they overheard anything, the gossip would spread faster than a wildfire. "Let's head to the back of the Arithmancy section." Arithmancy was a high-level, difficult elective, and she correctly figured out that the section would be deserted.

"What's the big deal about secrecy?" Ginny demanded as they settled onto a bench together. "Who _is_ this guy? It's not Ron, right? I would know if it were Ron."

"It's not Ron." For a while, she had been smitten with Ron, but then Draco had come along, and her attentions had turned so completely that she had nearly forgotten about her feelings for Ginny's brother. "It's…" she hesitated, feeling a stab of guilt. "Ginny, can I trust you?'

"Of course," Ginny said immediately, looking slightly offended. "You know you can."

"I know," Hermione took a deep breath. "Just...just swear that you won't tell _anyone_?"

Ginny looked puzzled and slightly concerned. "I swear," she finally said. "What's going on?"

"It's Draco."

"Malfoy?" Ginny leapt off the bench and stared at Hermione. "No. Way."

"It's true…" Hermione said weakly.

"Hermione, did he hex you? Or is he blackmailing you?"

"Of course not! He's really not so bad when you get to know him."

"No, Hermione, he really is that bad. He's a player, and for some reason you're his game. Can't you see that?"

Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes. She knew that this was going to be hard, but she hadn't expected such a violently negative response from her best friend. "All I see is that you're refusing to see that Draco may not be such a terrible person. Can't you be happy for me?"

"I would be," Ginny insisted, "if you weren't making a stupid mistake that's going to get you hurt."

Hermione bit her lip and blinked back the tears before they could fall. "My only mistake was telling you," she said stiffly.

Ginny looked hurt. "Hermione, you know I'm on your side. If you're happy, then I'll try to respect that." She didn't sound convincing, but her attempt helped to diffuse Hermione's hurt.

"You won't tell anyone?"

"I won't. Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Hermione hesitated, but then admitted, "No, I'm not sure. We fight. A lot. But then we kiss…"

She spent the rest of the evening confiding in Ginny - her worries, her hopes - everything and left with a much lighter heart.

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 **Please leave a review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey all! This update didn't take too long - yay! Just a note - a couple weeks have passed between last chapter and this chapter. Nothing too interesting happened, just more of the same, so I fastforwarded slightly. Hope you enjoy =)**

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The first snowfall came early that year, transforming Hogwarts into a magical snowy expanse. The Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was fast approaching, and tensions between the two houses were rising. Harry and Ron were driving Hermione crazy, with every other word out of their mouths about quaffles and snitches and various strategy plans.

Draco, however… Draco was a dream. Except for all the fighting, but even that had gotten a little better over the last couple weeks of their secret...whatever it was...that they had together.

"This is ridiculous," Draco's voice broke into her thoughts. "Why are we out in the cold when we could be," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, "in our warm common room, alone…?" He tugged slightly on her waist, trying to encourage her to move out of the the small grove of trees and towards the castle.

"It's magical out here," Hermione protested. She waved an arm around at the snow and tilted her face up so that the snowflakes could fall on her face. "Stop worrying about your hair and take your hood off!" It was nice to be out with Draco, to feel like they weren't hiding. However, she knew that nothing had changed - they had only risked this because of the heavy snow.

Draco sighed, but lowered the hood on his winter robes, allowing the snowflakes to fall on his perfect white-blond hair. He pulled his Slytherin scarf closer around his neck and shivered visibly. "Are you sure we can't go back up to the common room?" He leaned in closer to her and his warm breath caressed her ear. "I could make it worth your while…"

Hermione shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold. "Come on, Draco," she protested half-heartedly. "The snow...it's magical…"

"I think this is pretty magical," Draco countered. He placed his hands on Hermione's hips and half lifted half pushed her up against the nearest tree trunk, and then leaned up against her. He ran his fingers through her slightly damp hair.

"Someone could see," Hermione protested breathlessly, not making any attempt to push Draco away. It was such a magical moment, with the snow falling all around them, that nothing else seemed to really matter.

"I could stop," Draco muttered, grazing his lips along the side of her neck. His breath was deliciously warm against her frozen skin. "Just say the word." His tongue flickered out, and she moaned.

Then, all of a sudden, Draco froze. Then, he backed up a step, and his face hardened into an arrogant smirk. "Not such a bright idea, going for a walk in the snow all alone, now was it, _Granger_?" he asked arrogantly. "I've been waiting to try out this nasty new hex...I think you'll find it very impressive." He pulled out his wand and twirled it absently in his hand.

"What?" Hermione asked, stunned and confused. Draco was acting like...like he had before everything had started. What had changed?

"Oh, poor little Granger," Draco spat. "Not so tough without Potty and the Weasel to protect you, now are you?"

"What...what are you…" Hermione stuttered, trying to grasp what was going on.

Then, a voice startled her from behind. "G-g-get away f-from her."

Hermione turned, and saw a trembling Neville leveling a shaking wand in Draco's direction. His eyes were wide with fear, but his face was determined. "Neville?" she asked, the pieces all falling into place. Draco's sudden change of behaviour, his threats...it was making sense. "Oh Neville!" She finally caught on and pulled her wand out of her sleeve and pointed it at Draco. "Are you going to risk taking us both on, Malfoy? Us Gryffindors stick together."

Draco's smirk widened. "This bumbling idiot is going to help you? Wow, now I feel threatened."

"L-leave her a-alone," Neville stuttered, moving closer to stand by Hermione.

"Back off," Hermione added, trying to sound menacing. "Or...or we'll make you…" she floundered…"uh, regret it."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. You got me this time," he said lamely and unconvincingly. "Guess I'll go bully some other Gryffindorks." He started off and was quickly obscured by the falling snow.

"Thanks, Neville," Hermione turned to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's a big thing you did, standing up to Dr-Malfoy like that."

"I couldn't just let him hurt you," Neville told her earnestly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Hermione reassured him, although her eyes were fixed on where Draco had disappeared into the snow. "Thank you."

"Can I walk you back to the castle?" He smiled uncertainly at her.

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll enjoy the snow a little longer," Hermione told him. "It's much nicer now that Malfoy's gone."

"Are you sure?" Neville had a worried look in his eyes that touched her.

"If he comes back, I'll be ready for him this time," she reassured him with a slight shiver. The snow was much colder without Draco's body heat to help warm her up. Eventually, Neville nodded and started back off towards the castle.

Moments after he left, Draco rematerialized out of the snow and strode towards her, a pleased grin on his face. "Fooled him completely!" he announced victoriously, slinging an arm around Hermione's shoulder. "It was a close one, though."

Hermione was silent for a moment, but then finally couldn't stay silent any longer. "This isn't a game, Draco. The goal of this isn't to make everyone believe that we're still enemies, and I hate lying to my friends! I get that you want to see if it'll work before we tell people, but it's working." _Mostly,_ she added to herself. Sure, they argued and fought, but the feelings were real enough that she was beginning to feel more and more guilty about her secret.

"Hermione," Draco groaned, but she cut him off.

"If you're serious about this - about me - I need to know," she continued passionately. "I'm sick of all this sneaking around." She pulled away from his and wrapped her arms around herself, fighting back a shiver. When did it get so cold?

Draco took his scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around hers, and then tucked it into the cowl of her robe so that none of the green and silver was visible. "I'm serious." He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a couple snowflakes. "It's just not that easy. Do you think Potty and the Weasel-"

"-stop calling them that-"

"-would just be thrilled to find out you're snogging me? And what about Blaise and Pansy and...my father? I'm a Malfoy! I'm from a pureblood family - how do you think people will react?"

"Because I'm a Mudblood? That's the problem? How are we always back to this? I thought you were over your stupid prejudices!"

"I'm not trying to start an argument!" Draco argued. "I'm just explaining all the factors." Hermione noticed that he didn't confirm that he was over his prejudices, and took that as proof that he still wasn't. "I just don't want everyone else getting in the way of you and me."

"Well, maybe you should stop your prejudices and fear of ruining your _reputation_ from getting in our way, then," Hermione snapped, and then flounced off, leaving Draco speechless in the snow behind her.

It was only later that she realized that she had forgotten to return his scarf. Maybe it was sentiment or maybe it was spite, but she threw it in the corner of the room and resolved not to give it back.

…

"What's your problem, man?" Blaise greeted Draco as he stormed into the Slytherin common room, freezing cold from being outside for so long. The snow in his hair had melted, and was now dripping down his back, since Hermione still had his scarf. That just made him even more annoyed at her. "You look like someone just caught you with a nasty hex. Granger finally had enough of you?"

"Back off," Draco snarled at his friend.

"Ooh, hit a nerve, did I?" Blaise drawled, rising to his feet from the oversized armchair. "I knew you couldn't do it. There's no way you could get that Mudblood to fall for you, and you're running out of time."

"I said, _back off_ ," Draco repeated, holding Blaise's gaze with his most menacing stare. "If you have to know, things with Granger are going fine. Great, even. She's practically flinging herself at me - it's pathetic, really."

Blaise arched an eyebrow at Draco. "Is that so? Well, I guess it's time to prove it, then."

"I guess so," Draco replied evenly, although he felt his heart clench inside of him. This wasn't good - he needed to stall for time. "It has to wait until after the match tomorrow," he added smoothly. "I can't afford any distractions. Besides, I need to orchestrate the perfect moment - one that will both humiliate Granger and win me this bet."

"Fine then." Blaise didn't sound convinced, but Draco just smirked confidently and swaggered past him to steal his armchair. He was regretting his choice to go to the Slytherin common room, but he hadn't wanted to go to his common room and run the risk of seeing Hermione after their most recent argument. However, he wasn't going to retreat now and look like a coward, so he was stuck for the next little while.

He pulled a textbook for Potions out of his bookbag and opened it to a random page, and then pretended to be completely engrossed in reading the ingredients and procedure for a Vanishing Potion. However, his thoughts inevitably drifted to Hermione and how upset she had been when he had practically admitted that he was embarrassed to be seen with her.

But why did he care? Why did it matter that it bothered him when she stormed away, her face flushed with hurt and anger?

Why was he developing feelings for an inferior, contentious Mudblood?

This bet was quickly growing out of hand, and Draco was beginning to dread the inevitable conclusion. He could imagine the look on Hermione's face already when she found out that she had been played, and it made his heart twist inside his chest and made him wish that he could call the whole thing off.

However, his reputation...and his father… He was stuck, and he had no choice but to move forward. Still, he couldn't help the twinge of guilt he felt thinking of Hermione and how much he would hurt her.

…

The next day, Hermione showed up slightly late to the big Quidditch match. She knew that it was a huge deal, but she had wavered back and forth on whether or not to actually go. She felt conflicted - divided - and the thought of cheering for Gryffindor or for Slytherin confused her. On one hand, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were all on the team, and she was loyal to her house and always had been. There was no way she wanted Slytherin to win, not really. But Draco was their Seeker, and even though whatever they had between them was far from perfect, Hermione felt a strange loyalty towards him and towards cheering him on. How could she do that in the Gryffindor section, though? She'd be an outcast for sure…

Finally, she'd decided to wear her traditional Gryffindor colours, but on a last minute whim, had tucked Draco's scarf into her robes where no one could see it.

"Hermione, finally!" Neville enthused, patting the spot next to him on the bleachers as she made her way up the stands. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

"And it's the biggest game of the year," Lavander added from beside Neville.

"I'm here, I'm here," Hermione laughed, plopping in the seat next to Neville. "Who's winning?"

"Tied - no one's scored yet," Lavender said, her eyes riveted on the game. "But Ron's fantastic - truly the star of the team!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but refrained from commenting on Lavender's crush. Instead, she focused on the game as well. Lavender was right - the score was zero-zero, and the game didn't seem super exciting at this point. Even the crowd wasn't super invested, which was unusual for a game between the two most competitive houses at Hogwarts.

Her gaze quickly zoomed in on Draco's blonde hair. He was flying in lazy circles high up above the rest of the players, searching for the snitch. Harry was trying a different tactic and was level with the main action, but flying in a wide circle around the other players. Neither of them looked to be in a hurry, so it appeared that the snitch was still elusive. Her eyes flickered back to Draco. He cut a striking figure on his broom, with his hair gleaming in the sunlight and his intense gaze.

A huge cheer rose from her section of the crowd, and Hermione joined in belatedly. "What happened?" she whispered to Neville after the noise died down.

"Ron blocked the quaffle," Neville told her without taking his eyes off the game.

"Oh good," Hermione muttered, feeling embarrassed that she had been too focused on Draco to watch the actual game.

A second loud cheer rose, but this time from the Slytherin section. This time, Hermione caught sight of the quaffle as it slipped past Ron's outstretched hands, and she joined in the groan with the rest of the Gryffindors.

The game continued on with Gryffindor and Slytherin scoring occasionally, but neither team taking the lead for very long. It was intense, and even Hermione found her attention caught by the action. Most Quidditch games bored her a little bit, but this one was fascinating, especially with Draco constantly catching her eye.

The crowd gasped, and Hermione wrenched her gaze from Draco to see Harry streaking towards the ground. Instants later, Draco was trailing right on his tail. Instinctively, Hermione reached into her bag and clutched Draco's scarf, both hoping that he would catch it and praying that he wouldn't. Her heartbeat sped up as Draco pulled up even with Harry, and they both stretched out a hand, reaching to be the one who caught the snitch first and won the game.

The two seekers neared the edge of the arena, and Hermione's grip on Draco's scarf tightened as the boys came closer and closer to the wall.

"Dr-!" Hermione gasped, but caught herself just in time. "Don't!" she covered lamely, glancing around at the Gryffindors to see if anyone had noticed her slip. Luckily, it seemed that everyone was so intent on the game that no one had noticed her near exclamation. Thankfully, Draco and Harry had both pulled up in time, and now were circling, frustrated, around the arena. Apparently they had lost sight of the snitch in the near collision.

Still, Hermione couldn't help but smile in relief before returning her gaze to Draco. She still felt like punching him from their argument yesterday, but she also knew what Quidditch meant to him.

Draco dove - this time, Hermione didn't have to wait for the crowd to gasp, as her eyes were already riveted on his dramatic broomstick dive.

The Gryffindors booed, as Harry was on the opposite side of the arena and would never make it in time. However, Hermione couldn't help a thrill of satisfaction as Draco leveled out his dive and held up his hand in victory, the snitch clutched tightly in his gloved hand. She held in the cheer that bubbled up in her throat, and tried to look appropriately sad for their loss.

She couldn't wait to see Draco and talk through their most recent fight - she was finding that she really disliked being mad at him, which was a new feeling. She had been furious at him almost constantly for the past six years, and so the thought of wanting to not argue anymore seemed ludicrous. Hopefully he would be willing to do his part, though - she wouldn't back down. He was prejudiced, and he had to admit it and change if this was ever going to work out.

The thought hit her like a brick. Did she want it to work out?

She frowned, and wandered back towards her dormitory room in a daze, trying to work through her confusion of emotions. How did Draco do this to her constantly? Both drive her so crazy she was spitting nails and make her feel fluttery and light on her feet, sometimes at the same time.

One thing was clear, at least - they needed to talk.

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	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Keep up the reviews, guys! They are the source of all of my inspiration! I hope you enjoy the chapter - it was a really fun one to write.**

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Draco wasn't in the common room when Hermione returned late that evening after joining in the pity party in the Gryffindor common room. She had just spent an exhausting couple hours trying to cheer up Ron, Harry, and Ginny from their loss, but all three refused to really hear her attempts. They knew that they had let down their house, and so they all just stared vacantly at the fireplace along with the rest of the Gryffindor house. At least she had managed to get Harry and Ron to agree to study with her tomorrow night - not for her sake, but for theirs. They desperately needed the help if they were going to pass the term.

Finally, she had decided that she wasn't accomplishing much of anything, and had left in frustration after telling them to grow up and realize it was just a game. She regretted her outburst now - these were her friends, and she was just taking out her anger at Draco on them.

She had really been looking forward to yelling at Draco, to working through their stupid fight, to convincing him that she couldn't do this in secret anymore because the guilt at hiding something like this from her friends was too much. They had their problems - so many problems - but the secrecy of their relationship was the biggest one. It was frustrating to her that he didn't bother to show up for the talk she had planned - had rehearsed on the way from the Gryffindor common room to her Head Girl common room - and it just fueled her anger at him.

She stormed to the closed door of his room, feeling her frustration at the blonde Slytherin grow with each step she took. Pulling out her wand, she muttered a couple quick spells to undo the enchantments she was sure were protecting his door from any unwelcome visitors, and then slammed the door open.

The room was empty.

"Git," Hermione snapped, whether at her irrational actions or at the absent Draco, she wasn't sure. She paused for a moment, taking in his green and silver decorated room - surprisingly immaculate. Everything was pristine, like he barely lived there at all. It was a stark contrast to the homey, lived in look of her bedroom.

"Enjoying the invasion of my privacy?" a voice drawled from directly behind her.

Hermione jumped and spun around, right into Draco's chest. His arms wrapped around her tightly, preventing her from fleeing. She felt her cheeks flaming red. This was not how she had imagined the conversation starting. No, she had envisaged her coming down on him in righteous rage and them him apologizing and admitting how right she was…

"We need to talk."

"You say that a lot." Draco's voice was amused, but slightly aloof. "But I like it much better when your lips are engaged in...other pursuits." He eyes her mouth meaningful, a slow, sensual smile spreading across his handsome features.

Hermione shivered at the look, her anger quickly changing into desire. "I...Draco," she breathed, trying to keep a clear head as his predatory gaze rested on her, "we need to talk." She made a half-hearted attempt to pull away, but Draco held her firmly in his embrace. "Now."

"About?" Draco backed her up against the doorframe and rested his arms on either side of her head. His eyes gleamed, his gaze intent on every moment of her lips.

"Your...your…" Hermione closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of him staring at her, "your prejudices. Our...relationship?"

"I don't want to fight," Draco countered. Hermione trembled as his lips grazed against hers, slowly, teasingly.

"So let's talk," she countered, summoning her failing willpower and pushing him away despite what she really wanted. She headed out of his bedroom, breathing a sigh of both relief and disappointment as she settled on the couch and saw Draco headed to join her. His hands were clenched - not in anger, but in pent-up desire. She couldn't help a small, satisfied smile at that.

"What do you want me to say, Hermione?" Draco asked, lounging on the opposite side of the couch from her. "That I'm going to change? That everything will magically be exactly the way you want it and our friends and family will be happy for us?"

"Is that so impossible?" Hermione demanded, feeling her temper start to rise at his aloof attitude. "Do you ever care about trying to make this work?"

"Do you think I would risk so much if I didn't care?" Draco leaned forward, his words intense. "I care."

"Then...then why? Why does it matter if I'm not a pureblood? Or if I tell my friends?"

Draco hesitated, and then glanced down. "Maybe it doesn't," he muttered reluctantly.

"What?"

He looked up at her, his eyes looking haunted. "Maybe it doesn't matter if you're not a pureblood," he repeated slowly, looking like every word was tortured out of him.

A smile spread across Hermione's face. "Really?"

"Don't go looking so happy," Draco admonished, but there was a hint of a smile in his eyes. "My father would kill me if he knew I had ever thought that. And," he continued, emphatically, "do _not_ tell anyone about us. Not yet."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, frustrated, her smile falling from her lips. Every time she felt like they were making progress, Draco would resist and they would be back at square one.

Draco shrugged. "Just don't." A slow smile spread across his face, and he scooted closer to her on the couch. "I can convince you, if you need." He brushed his thumb across the corner of her mouth.

"Draco…"

"We talked," he cut her off, "and so now we get to snog."

Despite herself, Hermione giggled slightly, until Draco's lips changed the sound into moans of pleasure and desire.

…

Draco scowled all around, warding off anyone from bothering him. He wasn't in the mood to deal with fawning first-years or his idiot friends. No, since last night spent snogging with Hermione, he had been in a foul mood, and he was sure it was all her fault. Somehow.

He just felt like...like he was a bad person, for the first time in his life. Despite how much he hated to admit it, he had real feelings for Hermione, but he was about to break her heart. Soon - the plan was going into motion tonight, and then everything would all be over. That's why he didn't want her telling her friends. The last thing he needed was all the Gryffindorks out for his blood for breaking their beloved Golden Girl's heart.

Before Hermione, Draco had been content with his life. He had been looked up to by all of Slytherin, pursued by half the women at Hogwarts, and was on the path to becoming a powerful, rich, and successful wizard. Now, for the first time ever, it wasn't enough for Draco. For once, all he thought about was someone else, and how he could spare her from what was coming without losing his future.

It was hopeless.

Draco squared his shoulders, shoving past some Hufflepuffs and into the library. He had some research to do on advanced Transfiguration for his essay due tomorrow, and he'd been postponing it as long as he possibly could. He made his way through the stacks of books, familiar enough with the library that he didn't need to concentrate to find where he wanted to go.

There was no way around it - Hermione was part of the bet, and that's how it was. By the end of the night, everything would go back to how it used to be. Draco would be the unchallenged king of Slytherin, Hermione would return to her friends to lick her wounds, and their animosity would return just the way it had been before. There would be no more confusion, no more treasonous feelings that would incur his father's wrath...it was better this way. Really. Draco just wished it sounded less like he was trying to convince himself.

A flash of bushy hair and swirling robes at the end of the aisle caught his glance.

His adrenaline started pumping, and he glanced around to see if anyone was around. The library seemed deserted - it was still a couple weeks before exams, so there was a lull before the cramming began. With a smirk on his face, he approached the end of the aisle, and spied Hermione reaching up to replace a book on the second highest shelf of the bookshelf. The movement accentuated her figure, curved in all the right places and just begging to be held.

Silently, he prowled up behind her, darting another quick glance to make sure they were really alone. If everything had to end tonight, at least they could have one last moment together, right? That shouldn't be too much to ask…

Draco slid his arms around her slim waist, and breathed into her ear, "Guess who?" Before she could respond, his lips found his ear and he nibbled gently. He felt her breath speed up in his embrace, and he smiled in satisfaction at the effect his touch had on her. Under the cowl of her robe, he caught a glimpse of silver and green - his scarf. It gave him a rush of masculine pride to see it around her slender neck, to know that she had chosen to wear it, even in secret.

"Draco, wha…?" Hermione breathed, spinning in his embrace to face him. She was tantalizing with her face flushed, her lips slightly parted, and her breathing erratic against him. "What are you doing?" she asked nervously, her voice barely a whisper.

"If you have to ask, I'm not doing a very good job," Draco growled quietly, leaning in and skimming his lips gently along the side of her neck. He felt her pulse flutter shallowly under his touch, and let his lips linger at the spot.

"We're in the library!" Hermione hissed, although she didn't try to push him away. "Someone will see!"

"We're in the depths of the Transfiguration section and the library's deserted," Draco returned, flicking his tongue out against her neck and enjoying her involuntary moan of pleasure. "No one will see."

"Draco…"

The sound of his name on her lips caught his attention, and he shifted his attention to the temptation of her soft lips. The kiss started out slow, as he teased her into responding and to forgetting about her worries and anything else, but then eventually morphed into something much more passionate that him them pulling closer to each other in a desperate need to be as close as possible.

Finally, though, Hermione pulled away, her eyes slightly glazed. "Draco, we need to stop," she murmured, her gaze darting around the empty aisle. "Someone will…"

Draco rolled his eyes dramatically and gave her a satisfied smirk. "Fine, _your highness_ ," he teased, making a reference to their original bet and their first kiss. He ran a hand along the side of her face, and she leaned into his touch despite herself. "If you're so worried about it, I'll just leave. Let you get to your studying, preparing for finals, all by yourself...lonely…"

Hermione snorted, but her full lips turned up in a smile. "I think you might have ruined my productivity," she admitted with a giggle.

"What a shame," Draco replied, his eyebrows arching suggestively as he leaned in towards her again.

Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips, and he took the invitation before she changed her mind.

If everything was going to explode anyway, he could at least enjoy this perfect moment. However, he couldn't help the twinge of guilt he felt deep inside.

…

After her unprofitable - though extremely enjoyable - attempt at studying in the library for the upcoming final exams, Hermione headed back to the the Gryffindor common room. She had her study date with Harry and Ron that evening, and she couldn't put that off if her two friends were going to have any chance of passing. With how absorbed they had been in the big Quidditch game, she suspected that they were extremely behind in their studies. As usual.

She gave the password and entered the common room to a cacophony of yelling - angry yelling. She blinked a couple times, then sighed, wondering what had set everyone off this time. Probably something to do with Slytherin, judging by how mad everyone sounded.

She stepped fully into the common room, and the shouting died down as everyone stared at her for a couple seconds. Harry looked upset, Ron's face was as angry red as his hair, Ginny was crying, Lavender looked close to tears, Neville looked like someone had hit him in the face with a nasty hex, and the other Gryffindors in the room looked a mixture of upset, intrigued, and trapped.

"Ask her!" Lavender blurted out into the silence, pointing at Hermione accusingly.

A fresh outbreak of shouts broke out. Hermione just stood there, shocked, a feeling of dread spreading slowly through her entire body. She knew she should leave, or say something, but she just stood there, slowly feeling more and more numb as the shouting continued all around her.

"I saw them!" Lavender claimed loudly. "Snogging in the library!"

"She would never snog _him_ ," Ron screamed back. "Not the ferret!"

"Why don't we ask her?" Harry bellowed, obviously trying to play peacekeeper, but still sounding too upset. He stroked Ginny's hair as the youngest Weasley continued to cry miserably.

Finally, the yelling calmed down at Harry's suggestion, slowly, until there was just the sound of furious, uneven breathing filling the common room. After all the noise, the silence just felt...oppressive.

"Hermione?" Harry asked calmly, "were you...with Malfoy?"

All eye turned again to Hermione, and she felt herself panic, unable to say anything. "I…" she started, glancing at the sea of faces - some hostile, some confused, some encouraging. "I…"

"I can prove it," Lavender interrupted, stalking over to Hermione. Before Hermione could do anything, the other girl yanked down the side of her robe, revealing a glimpse of Draco's scarf wrapped carefully around her neck. Lavender grabbed the scarf, pulling it off, and held it up triumphantly, her eyes on Ron. "See?"

Ron's face somehow managed to become even redder as he glared between the scarf and Hermione. "No. It's...it can't… Say something!" This last comment was addressed to Hermione.

She swallowed hard, blinking back tears. "It's...he's different," she forced out lamely into the tense silence. "Draco's…"

"Draco?" Ron hissed. "You call him Draco? After everything he's done? How could you, Hermione?"

Harry just stood there, pain and betrayal chasing each other across his face.

"Ron, Harry," Hermione said desperately, "please, let me explain!"

"What could you _possibly_ say to make this better?"

"Shut up, Ron," Ginny spoke for the first time. "Let her speak."

Hermione shot her best friend a grateful look, but the redhead wouldn't meet her gaze. "It's just...it's all an act," she started, unsure about how to explain how the real Draco was so different from Malfoy. "When we're together…"

"I can't listen to this," Ron growled. "Get out. Go run to your ferret lover."

Hermione stopped, shocked at the cruel words from her friend, and looked beseechingly around the common room. Nobody met her eyes, not even Ginny or Harry.

"We just need some time," Harry added as calmly as he could, despite how upset he looked. "To understand...why him...why you didn't tell us..."

"I...I was happy," Hermione choked out, "and scared…"

Ron just shook his head in anger and disgust, and stormed back towards the boys dormitories.

The tears filling Hermione's eyes began to spill over, and she snatched the scarf from Lavender's hands, holding it close to her body.

"Hermione," Ginny began, placatingly, meeting her gaze for the first time with both pain and empathy, "can we…"

Hermione didn't hear what Ginny was about to say as the tears increased and she spun, racing out of the Gryffindor common room with Draco's scarf clutched in her arms before the tears blinded her completely.

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	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and encouragement - you guys are all awesome! Enjoy this next chapter and all its drama.**

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Hermione ran through the hallways, barely paying attention to where she was running. All she felt was a desperate need to get away - far away - from everything. All that yelling and those accusatory glares...how could her friends treat her like that? Deep down, a part of her admitted that she probably would've have reacted similarly in their position, but she still felt betrayed and alone.

Where was Draco?

She hated to admit that she wanted him - needed him - but it was the truth, especially after what had just happened in the Gryffindor common room. Her pace slowed as her sobs started to make it difficult to run and breathe, and she stood for a moment, trying to take deep breaths and calm herself enough to get her bearings and direct herself towards her Head Girl common room. Chances were good that she would find Draco there, and she needed him to hold her. She would never admit that he was right, that they should have kept their relationship secret, but maybe he had a point.

"What's wrong, dear?" a matronly voice startled her, and she spun to see a couple portraits on the wall peering at her in concern. They were dressed in ancient-looking robes.

"No...nothing," she sputtered. "Thank." Without waiting for a response, she rushed away before the ladies could push her for answers.

Their common room wasn't too far, and Hermione hurriedly wiped at the tears still on her cheeks. She didn't want Draco to see her as a complete mess - sobbing, betrayed, hurt - and so she tried to pull herself together.

"Hermione?"

She spun at the sound of Draco's voice coming from behind her. "Draco?" she asked, hurriedly scrubbing at her face with Draco's scarf and hoping that her eyes weren't too puffy. "What are you doing?"

"Heading to our common room," he drawled, swaggering up to her, his typical smirk on his face. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of her. "Everything okay?" His questioning gaze dropped to his scarf still clutched in her hands, and he took it from her and wound it loosely around her neck.

"Yea-yes," she lied, then shook her head. "No. Nothing's okay."

His face softened for a second - looking concerned - before his smirk reappeared. "How about I help make it all better?" He swayed closer to her and put his hands on her hips, pulling her up against him.

"Draco," Hermione protested, pulling back away from him. "I'm upset. This really isn't the time…"

"It's the perfect time," he countered, his eyes darting to the side before returning to her lips with an intense gaze. "You're sad - I can fix that."

Hermione hesitated. Part of her wanted to tell him to back off, to both leave her alone and hold her, but another part of her was responding to the heat in his eyes and wanting to lose herself in his lips and just forget about everything.

"Well, what do you say?" Draco asked, his mouth close enough that his warm breath caressed her cheek tantalizingly.

In response, Hermione ran her hand through his soft, finger-length hair, and then pulled his face to hers in a passionate kiss. She arched up against him, and he wrapped his arms completely around her waist, crushing her to him in what felt like desperation mingled with passion.

"Well, well, well," a coolly amused voice sounded. Hermione jerked back, and then stumbled as Draco released his grip on her. She caught herself with a hand on the stone wall, and surveyed the scene in front of her with confusion. Draco stood, arms crossed in front of him, and a forced smirk on his face. His silvery eyes, however, were guarded and refused to meet hers. Next to him stood Blaise Zabini - his face as cruel and arrogant as ever - and Pansy Parkinson hovered inches from Draco's other side, glancing anxiously between him and Hermione. "I honestly didn't think you could do it, Draco."

Draco shrugged. "Told you I could." His voice was quiet.

"Look at her," Pansy shrilled with a satisfied smile. "She's pathetic - you have her drooling over you."

The realization started to sink in to Hermione, and she began to tremble with a mixture of anger and hurt as the Slytherins continued their conversation.

Blaise clapped his hand on Draco's shoulder. "Consider the bet won - you're undefeated."

"It was never a question." Draco still refused to look at her, standing there and feeling her world collapse around her.

The words cut into her like little sharp knives, and she flinched back at the confirmation that this had indeed been all a game, and that Draco had played her expertly.

"And now, you can be done with this Mudblood filth," Blaise continued, tossing out the slur casually. "Butterbeers on me? I'm sure you want to wash the taste of impurity out of your mouth, and this calls for a celebration."

"Ooh, yes, Draco, let's go celebrate," Pansy squealed, grabbing Draco's arm.

"How...how could you?" Hermione finally found her voice and spat the accusation at Draco as he started to turn away. "You despicable...ferret...coward disgrace for a man!" Jerking the scarf from around her neck, she threw it at his feet. "Stay away from me." Her voice was cold. She turned away, fumbling for her wand in her robes as the tears started to spill down her cheeks. Pointing the wand back towards the Slytherin trio, she mumbled the incantation for the bat-bogey hex under her breath, and felt a thrill of satisfaction at the chorus of startled yelps accompanied by the sound of beating wings.

The satisfaction wore off moments later, and then the crushing despair hit.

…

Draco glared miserably at the wall of the hospital wing. One hand pinched the bridge of his nose - Madame Pomfrey had promised that it would help reduce the aftereffects of the bat bogey hex and halt the bleeding, but he just felt ridiculous.

"Thupid Mubbood," Blaise, on the next bed over, muttered sullenly. His hand was also pinching his nose, but Draco could still see trails of dark blood leaking out down his face.

To his surprise, the slur made Draco's blood boil. "Leave off," he growled. He couldn't handle hearing Blaise call her that, and especially not after what they had just done to her. She deserved that much respect, at the very least.

"Whaddre we gonna do to her?" Pansy broke in. She had taken the brunt of the hex, and one of the bats had broken her nose on the way out. Madame Pomfrey had fixed her up okay, but now she was sulking and apparently plotting revenge. Not that Pansy was intelligent enough to come up with anything impressive, but Draco still felt the urge to protect Hermione from further harm.

"Nothing," Draco ordered, letting go of his nose and sliding off the bed. "We deserved it."

Both Blaise and Pansy looked at him like he had grown a third head.

"What?" he asked, glaring at them both and daring them to question him.

"Wat's your poblem? She's a Mobbood," Blaise muttered through his bloody nose, his voice still sounding distorted. "This was the plan."

Draco punched his fist into the wall, then cursed as the impact sent sharp pains through his hand and arm. "I know," he muttered sullenly. "And it worked perfectly." Then why did it make him feel so awful? "I have to go," he finally mumbled to the other Slytherins, ignoring their confused looks and the glint of suspicion in Blaise's eyes as he stalked out of the room.

He had to find Hermione, and he had to find her now, had to explain before things got even worse. Not that he expected her to forgive him - in her place, he would never let go of his pride long enough to forgive someone who had treated him the way he had treated her - but he still had to explain, even if it killed him.

He stalked through the halls of Hogwarts, his scowl enough to make all the first-years he passed cringe and duck out of his way, but he barely noticed them. His attention was completely focused on Hermione - finding her, and making her understand.

The common room was empty when he burst in, ignoring the complaints of the medieval couple as he swung the portrait hard against the wall.

Hermione's door was slightly ajar, and her room was meticulously clean and showed no signs that she had been there recently.

For some reason, her absence just made his growing fury rage even higher. How dare she not be around when he was planning on apologizing to her? He, Draco Malfoy, was willing to apologize and Hermione 'I'm-better-than-everyone' Granger couldn't even manage to be around?

His fist met the wall, and he cursed even more loudly as his already sore hand protested and sent sharp, agonizing pains that took nearly a minute to fade into a dull ache.

An idea occurred to him, and he stormed out of the common room, heading towards the tower. Hermione would be there - he was sure of it. It was sort of their spot, and it would be fitting to find her there, to explain what had happened.

The stairs seemed endless, and his breathing became more harsh as he refused to slow down his reckless race up towards where he was sure Hermione was waiting. A million thoughts ran through his head, too fast for him to sort through them, and it only got worse as he neared the top of the stairs.

She wasn't there. Draco stood, gasping for breath, and felt his heart drop through the floor in disappointment even as his temper surged even higher. He had been so positive that she would be there.

"What are you doing here?" a cold voice demanded from the shadows. "I told you to stay away from me."

Spinning around, Draco faced a very angry looking Hermione. Her furious expression was only slightly ruined by the tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. "Hermione, I-"

"Don't call me that," she hissed, taking a step back away from him.

"Let me explain," he ordered, his voice growing louder. "I can explain!"

"How?" Hermione demanded furiously. "How could you possibly explain how you _lied_ to me, and _used_ me, and then threw me away like I was nothing?"

"It was this bet," Draco tried, taking a step towards her. "I had to save face in front of the Slytherins, and this was the only way to do it."

Hermione recoiled, and her eyes filled with a new batch of tears. "I...do you know what hurts the most, _Malfoy_?" she hissed. "It's that I really thought you had changed, and that this was all real. Despite everything you had done, I thought...I just thought…" Her voice trailed off and she stifled a sob, covering her mouth with her hand.

"It was real." The words were soft, and Draco could barely believe he was saying them.

"Leave me alone."

"No," Draco decided immediately. "I'm not leaving until you believe me."

"Then enjoy rotting in this tower." Hermione turned to go.

"Look, I risked everything for you," Draco yelled at her back. "Do you know what would have happened if my father had caught wind of this?"

"Oh, no," Hermione turned back to face him, her face tight with anger. "You do _not_ come here to yell at me or to blame me for all of this. This is _all_ on you."

"Hermione…" He reached out towards her, but she whirled around and started stomping down the stairs before he could touch her, leaving him alone and seething in the tower.

…

It took Hermione three tries to choke out the password to the Gryffindor common room before the portrait hole swung open - maybe more out of pity than anything else, since her words were intelligible. However, she was finally able to stumble into the common room, tears still blurring her vision.

She didn't know if she was doing the right thing, but she didn't know where else to go, and she really needed her friends right now.

"Hermione?" Ginny's voice broke into her thoughts, and she felt her friend put an arm around her shoulders and lead her towards a seat. "What's wrong?"

"You were right - you were all right," Hermione sobbed, trying to wipe the tears off her cheeks. "Dr-Malfoy...it was all a game to him."

"Oh, 'Mione, I'm so sorry," Ginny tried to comfort her.

"Do you want us to go hex him?" a male voice broke in.

"Or kill him?"

Hermione looked up to see a concerned, though slightly relieved looking Harry and a red-faced, angry Ron perched on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

For a second, Hermione considered it, but then remembered that she would probably lose her position as Head Girl if she sanctioned violence. "No," she said, her voice breaking. "Besides," she added, with a slight smile despite the crushing despair, "his nose still probably hasn't healed all the way from the bat bogey hex I cast."

"You did?" Harry asked, grinning back at her. "That prick deserved every single bat."

"It's not enough," Ron seethed, his hands clenching into fists. "I'm going to throttle him in his sleep for touching you with his filthy hands…"

"Ron, calm down," Ginny ordered. "'Mione, what do you need?"

"N-nothing," Hermione took a deep breath. "Just...just my friends back?" She glanced up and forced a weak smile, and was relieved to see Harry and Ginny smile back at her. Ron still had steam coming out of his ears, but his fury didn't feel directed at her as much as at Malfoy.

"Anything you need," Harry agreed immediately.

"Especially if there is hexing involved." Ron's fingers twitched towards his wand.

"Maybe later," Hermione cautioned, but felt better to hear that her friends were on her side. And a little bit of harmless revenge couldn't be that bad...

* * *

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